


Slice of Fódlan Life

by CarbonDogMK



Series: FE3H Modern AU [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Inktober 2019, but others are super fluffy, characters mostly live in different cities, some might have dark themes, there's a lot of hockey by the way cuz i said so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-09 12:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 22,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarbonDogMK/pseuds/CarbonDogMK
Summary: Title says it all. Just a collection of modern AU slice of life shorts. There is a broad overarching chronology, but most stories are standalone.This started out as something for Inktober 2019, but I'll probably still continue it after I finish the prompts as well. Does have quite a bit of fluff, but the tone of each story varies wildly depending on what I'm feeling.





	1. 1 - Ring

Bernadetta idly doodled in her notebook, her graphic design teacher droning on about color balance.

Theory days were the worst. Sure, she definitely preferred this class over other stuff like chemistry, or - Sothis forbid - English, but she liked it better when they were in the computer lab actually working on projects. The work periods were the best. She could put in her earbuds and just work her Photoshop magic in relative silence. 

She'd done some nice stuff over her three years at St. Indech High, posters and infographics and the like, but she was so paranoid about not attracting unwanted attention that she purposefully submitted worse versions as her assignments. She'd learned her lesson in tenth grade when the teacher put one of her projects on display for everyone to see. Oh, that was the worst...

A loud ring pulled her out of her introspection. Someone's phone was going off.

She jerked her head up, looking around for the source of the disturbance. To her horror, she quickly realized everyone was staring at her... and that her phone was the one that was ringing!

Flushing scarlet, Bernadetta frantically dug around in her backpack to find her phone and silence it, oh Sothis this was so embarrassing she'd never live this down please please please just make it stop...

Finally, her fingers closed around the familiar rectangular shape and she quickly flicked off the ringer. She refused to look up, too mortified as to what she might see on the faces of her classmates.

"...Alright, well just a reminder to keep your phones on silent during class," said the teacher with some amusement. A wave of laughter rang out through the classroom. Bernadetta felt like crawling under her desk and disappearing.

"Anyways, as I was saying, you have red, blue, and yellow equally distributed around the color wheel..."

Silently stewing in her own embarrassment and shame, Bernadetta resolved right then and there never again to download games that were muted by the ringer switch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theres a good chance i dont actually do one a day


	2. 2 - Mindless

Byleth awoke to the sound of his alarm. Monday morning once again, 6 AM. He yawned as he shuffled to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He didn't really mind waking up that early. It was simply the consequence of having to teach an 8 AM class. That said, sometimes he wished he still lived in residence so that his commute was shorter.

The small apartment was shared between him and his twin sister, Belize. Both prodigies in their fields, him in history and Belize in quantum physics, they were by far the youngest professors at the university. It didn't hurt that their father was the legendary Jeralt Eisner, whose contributions to the field of archaeology were the stuff of legend.

They'd moved out pretty fast after getting their new positions. Even if he didn't show it outwardly, Jeralt had been proud. His kids were all grown up and independent.

Just like every other weekday morning, Byleth shoved some grounds in the coffee maker and chucked a couple pieces of bread in the toaster, then opened the fridge to look for the margarine. He took it out and put it on the counter and grabbed a knife and plate. Then he went back to his room to change.

He'd never been one to put a lot of effort into his appearance. He buttoned up a collared shirt, found a pair of clean jeans and put them on. Then he grabbed his shoulder bag from beside his desk and headed back to the kitchen.

6:20 now. As usual, Byleth sat down and had his breakfast while giving his prepared lecture slides a final once-over. Once he was satisfied, he got up, put his plate in the dishwasher, and headed for the door, holding his familiar thermos of coffee with his bag slung over his shoulder.

"By, what the heck are you doing?"

His sister's sharp voice snapped Byleth out of his groggy fugue, and he turned around. "...What?"

She was standing in the doorway of her room, eyebags apparent, glaring at him. "You do know it's reading week this week, right?"

Byleth stared blankly. "Uh..."

Tired as she was, Belize snapped her fingers at him. "Reading week for the students. You know, as in we have no classes to teach? Didn't you get the memo?"

"...Wait..." 

That sounded vaguely familiar. Byleth pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his email. 

"READING WEEK NEXT WEEK - NO CLASSES," screamed the sixth email down.

"Oh. Well, shoot."

Belize rolled her eyes. "I'm going back to bed," she groaned. She retreated back into her room and shut the door behind her.

Byleth sighed. His routine had gotten the better of him again. Now he couldn't even go back to bed, because he'd had some of his coffee already. Now what?

Well, since he was up so early anyways...

He found Seteth in his contacts and hit the "call" button. Now where did he put that old fishing rod...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twins cause why not? also this just happened to set up perfectly for tomorrow lol


	3. 3 - Bait

Byleth reached for the horn as he pulled up to Seteth’s house, but there was no need. Flayn was already waiting expectantly on the porch, cooler and fishing rod in hand.

He got out and helped her put her gear in the trunk, and then she jumped in the shotgun seat and they were off.

“Shame Seteth couldn’t come,” Byleth remarked.

“Yeah... he had a faculty meeting,” explained Flayn. “I suppose you’re free for the day, then?”

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t check until after I called your dad,” Byleth admitted. “But yeah, thankfully I’m free today.”

“What about Belize?”

Byleth snorted. “She said she was out clubbing until late last night, so that’s a no.”

“Aw.” Flayn frowned. “You did bring lunch, right?”

“I swung by Care-It and picked up some chicken salad,” Byleth replied with a smile. Flayn let out a squeal.

“Yes! Thank you! Oh, this is going to be great!”

Byleth regarded Flayn bouncing up and down in her seat with some amusement. Usually 15-year old girls weren’t this into fishing, but then again, Flayn was not your typical 15-year old girl. “You haven’t ever been fishing out of town, have you?” he asked.

“Well… only once before,” she replied. “Where are we going, anyway?”

The twinkle in Byleth’s eye belied his lack of expression. “Well, I know this great spot on the Airmid. It’s just an hour east from here…”

The fishing site ended up being fairly vacant, as expected for a Monday morning in early October. Byleth and Flayn set up pretty quickly, and soon had both their lines cast. They sat there together, enjoying the river view and crisp autumn air.

Byleth decided to ask. “So, Flayn, what got you so into fishing in the first place?”

Flayn shrugged. “A lot of the faculty likes fishing as well, as I’m sure you know, and well... being raised my whole life around them some things rub off, I suppose.”

“Hm. Yeah, it’s just ‘cause I’m pretty sure most girls your age are perpetually on Instagram,” Byleth pointed out. “Not out here.”

At this Flayn scowled a little. “I’ll be honest, I do want a cell phone and to see what all the excitement is about. But my dad won’t let me.”

Byleth actually laughed. “Sounds like Seteth.”

Flayn pouted. “Yeah. I know he wants the best for me, and I have heard bad things about social media… but I do wish he wasn’t so overprotective sometimes.”

“You’re homeschooled too, right?”

“Not… quite? It’s a distance learning program. I just ask Dad or sometimes Aunt Rhea if there’s something I don’t understand.”

Byleth arched an eyebrow at that. “Distance learning, huh? Which curriculum?”

Their conversation was briefly interrupted as Flayn got a bite. She jumped up excitedly and began reeling in her line. “It’s actually… the Hoshidan curriculum,” she grunted as she fought her fishy opponent.

“Hoshido? Wow, I guess… again, that does sound like a Seteth thing to do,” Byleth mused. 

With a flourish, Flayn gave one final tug on her rod and pulled an Airmid goby from the water. “Gotcha!” she exclaimed triumphantly.

“Nice catch,” acknowledged Byleth. He opened up the cooler, shuffling around the ice inside as Flayn carefully unhooked the squirming fish. 

“I really wish the lake on campus wasn’t catch-and-release,” complained Flayn as she packed the goby in ice. “Dad gets me fish from the market sometimes, but it’s nothing compared to this.”

“Tonight we will feast like kings,” proclaimed Byleth as he turned back to his rod. Unfortunately, he spun just a little too quickly, and his outstretched foot hit the bait box, sending it careening into the river.

“Oh no!” shouted Flayn, watching in despair as the box floated quickly down the river and out of sight. “Maybe you spoke a little too soon…”

Byleth slapped a hand over his face in frustration. “Ugh, you cannot be serious! I guess we can go dig up some extra bait… but that’ll slow us down a lot.”

“Actually…” an idea lit up Flayn’s face. “I read in a book somewhere that chicken works really well as fish bait.”

“I thought you were so excited about the chicken salad?” Byleth asked incredulously. “And now you want to use it as bait?”

“Chicken salad is great, but if we can catch more fish, I’d say it’s worth it,” said Flayn defensively. “Besides, we don’t need to use the whole sandwich. You know Care-It likes to really stuff their sandwiches anyways.”

Byleth couldn’t deny that, and watched curiously as Flayn deconstructed her sandwich and baited her hook. Now how well would this work…?

Later that afternoon, it took Byleth and Flayn straining together to lift the large cooler, filled to the brim with fish, into the trunk of the car.

Seteth got back home around 6:30 and was immediately overpowered by the heavy smell of grilled fish coming from his kitchen. He walked into the dining area, and saw Byleth and his daughter both sitting there, leaning back in their seats, lethargic from overeating and grinning like idiots.

Despite himself, he smiled. “Good day today?”

“The best,” replied his daughter.

Byleth pushed a large plate of herring and pike towards him. “Want some?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so care-it is this sandwich place in my city and it has the GREATEST chicken salad sandwiches of all time so i had to give em a shoutout


	4. 4 - Freeze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... I raised the rating to T just for today's chapter. it's way darker than the previous three. nothing too crazy tho
> 
> just fair warning

2:00 AM, Central Fódlan Standard Time. Most people were asleep at this hour of the night. Aside from light from a few dorm windows and the library, the Garreg Mach campus itself was mostly dark and silent.

It was at this time when Shamir Nevrand did her best work.

She patrolled the grounds, footfalls completely noiseless. It was just one of the skills she had picked up over the years. Born in Dagda, she had been a hired gun for a while and had made quite a reputation for herself. Merc circles still referred to her as the most dangerous sniper out there.

She’d taken a job overseas in Adrestia. As it turned out, there had been a few… details her employers had left out of the contract, and she did have morals. Not a lot, but still a few. She cut ties with them. They tried to come after her. She killed them instead.

After that, returning home was no longer an option, but one Rhea Leigh had approached her to serve as Garreg Mach University’s head of security. She had every reason to refuse. After all, she wouldn’t even be allowed to use a gun. 

But then she found out the university was VERY rich and the job paid VERY well. How could she possibly turn that down?

Now after three years, she found that she didn’t really miss merc work all that much anymore, and she’d grown fond of the university and some of the townspeople. She hoped she wasn’t going soft.

Then again, she still regularly gave herself assignments, such as her patrol tonight. It was partially to keep her on her toes, but also so she wouldn’t get bored.

Right now, she was walking past the cathedral. Everything looked normal - wait.

Maybe she would get to see some action tonight after all. A man in a balaclava, wearing all black, had just jimmied loose a first-floor window to the cathedral and slipped inside.

“Catherine. This is Shamir. Do you read me?” Shamir whispered into her walkie.

“Loud and clear, Shamir. What’s the sitch?”

Shamir stifled a groan. Catherine never followed protocol. “A suspicious individual just entered the cathedral through a first-floor window. Call the police for me, will you?”

“On it. Go take him out, Shamir!”

Rolling her eyes, Shamir hissed, “I’m not authorized to ‘take him out’. Make the call.” She clicked off the walkie before Catherine could respond again.

Time to do what she did best. Silently, she unlocked a side door to the cathedral and slipped inside.

The Garreg Mach Cathedral was the most holy place in the religion of Seirosdom. Supposedly, the Goddess Sothis herself was buried in the tomb below. In fact, both the town and the university of Garreg Mach had been founded and built around it. In recent years, though, GMU had become a secular university and the cathedral had become less of a hotspot. Worshippers from throughout the continent still came to pay their respects though, and Rhea was still quite busy in her position as the current archbishop.

So there was definitely an obvious explanation for a burglar wanting to target this place. It held many holy relics ripe for the picking. Shamir slipped silently through the halls, eyes quickly adjusting to the low lighting. The intruder wasn’t even trying to muffle his footsteps, so Shamir could track him easily. Amateur.

She was a little surprised, though, when her merc intuition started to tingle. She wasn’t sure why yet, but something about this just felt off. 

There. A second pair of footsteps, and muttering. Someone else must have come in through a different entrance. This definitely wasn’t just a normal burglary, she was sure of it now. Risking a glance around a corner, Shamir saw the two individuals run off down a flight of stairs. She followed.

They were fast, and they seemed to know where they were going. Now at the lowest level of the cathedral, Shamir stopped to think for a moment. What could they possibly want down here…? All the artifacts were displayed or stored on the first floor.

No. It couldn’t be…

The only thing down here was the Holy Tomb, which she was pretty sure had nothing of value to steal. Something really weird was going on here.

Now that she was sure of their objective, Shamir retreated up the stairs and radioed Catherine again. “They’re going after the Holy Tomb. Come quickly, I don’t know what they’re trying to do.”

Knowing Catherine would definitely give her position away if she responded, Shamir switched off the walkie and glided back down the stairs. 

Making her way down to the hallway before the Tomb, she was surprised to see flickering light at the end. Ducking behind a pillar, she stopped to listen closely. There was no doubt about it, that was the drone of a blowtorch. These guys knew what they were doing.

She retreated back to the previous corridor and waited. There was no way she could go in there alone, unarmed except for her baton. She just had to hope that Catherine and the police would be fast.

Thumping noises from upstairs. They were here. Shamir heard mutters from down the hall, but couldn’t make out any words over the blowtorch, which presumably was being used to burn through the thick steel door guarding the Tomb.

“There anyone down here?” a voice boomed. Alois’ voice. Dang, Catherine had called out the big guns for this one. The mutters at the end of the hall intensified, and Shamir could just barely make out “get ready”.

Her eyes narrowed. Get ready for what? 

Then, a light from the stairs. Alois was leading the charge, with two deputies and Catherine right behind him. They spotted Shamir, and she pointed around the corner and shook her head. Alois was wearing Teflon, she noted. Good, he might need it.

She motioned to Alois’s pistol holster. He nodded, face grim, and she pulled the magnum from its pouch. A Sig Sauer P220, all too familiar in her grip. Alois motioned to his deputies to stay back, then flicked his flashlight onto its highest setting and rounded the corner.

“Freeze! Garreg Mach police! Put your hands-“

A shot rang out.

One of the intruders slumped to the ground, his own pistol still clutched in his hand. Shamir hadn’t given him a chance to shoot. She shifted her aim to the other hostile, grip steady and face stone cold.

If Alois was rattled, he didn’t show it. He was the chief for a reason. “I said, hands up!” he bellowed at the other man.

“Never. Glory to Agartha!” the remaining man snarled, and he bit into his shoulder. Within seconds, he collapsed, spasming and writhing.

Shamir’s gaze hardened further. “Potassium cyanide pill. Who _are_ these guys?”

Alois let out a long breath. “Agartha… it’s that terrorist group. I didn’t think they’d ever come here.” 

“There’s at least one more of them out there right now,” Catherine spat. “Our system got hacked - they fed us a loop! Nothing showed up on the cameras.”

“Ray, Mannix,” Alois addressed his deputies, suddenly sounding more tired than ever. “Get that blowtorch off that guy, I don’t want it exploding down here. Take all their stuff and get them to the morgue. I want this cleaned up quick.”

The two deputies nodded and got to work. 

“Well, Shamir…” Catherine turned to her, eyebrows raised and mouth drawn into a thin line. “Am I glad we have you around.”

“That’s the first time I’ve had to do that here.” Shamir grimaced. “I hope it’s also the last.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I was trying to think of something for this prompt and couldn't come up with anything good out of the cold definition. so instead you guys got this. It was a ton of fun to write though, so I hope it was just as good a read!


	5. 5 - Build

Leonie popped another pretzel in her mouth, eyes scanning over her assignment. Just needed a couple more finishing touches and she could hand it in.

“Hmm, how to end…”

She was interrupted by a brisk knock at the door. “Yeah, I’ll be right there!” she shouted. 

Leaving her laptop still running at her desk, Leonie got up to open the door to the dorm.

“Good evening,” Hubert greeted her.

“Oh yeah! I totally forgot you were coming over,” said Leonie. “Sorry about that. Come in, come in.” She closed the door behind him as Hubert hung up his trench coat.

“You seriously always wear that thing, huh? Even in the summer.” Leonie shook her head. “Hilda! Hubert’s over to build my computer!”

Hilda’s muted voice drifted from her room’s closed door. “Yeah, alright. I’ll just be in here.”

Hubert snorted. “I wasn’t aware Hilda was your roommate. How did someone like her get into Garreg Mach University, anyways?”

Leonie smirked. “Well, she _looks_ like she never tries, but you should see her when an assignment is due in the next twenty-four hours. Trust me, she deserves to be here. C’mon, I’ll show you the parts I bought.”

They headed back to the kitchen, where the table had been partly cleared. Various computer parts sat there in disarray. 

Hubert surveyed the scene, eyes quickly idenfitying each part in turn. “Not bad. Who did you consult?”

“Wow, you’re just assuming that I don’t know anything about computers. Thanks a lot,” Leonie snarked.

A sidelong glance. “Well, why else would you have asked me to come help you?”

“Ah… fair point.” Leonie laughed. “Yeah no, I just bought what Claude told me to.”

“I suspected as much,” said Hubert. “Alright, just allow me about an hour and I should have this thing set up and good to go.”

“Sweet! I’ll just leave you to it, then.” Leonie made to get back to her assignment, but turned around. “Oh right, where are my manners? Want a drink? Or something to eat?”

“That would be appreciated. …Do you have coffee?”

“Mocha or espresso?”

Half an hour passed by, and Leonie had finished up her assignment and turned it in. Now she was watching curiously as Hubert worked on the myriad of cables inside the case, already having installed the motherboard, power supply, and graphics card.

“Where’d you learn how to do all this, anyways?” Leonie asked. “Lorenz just told me that you were good at it.”

“I was the eldest child in a large extended family,” replied Hubert without looking up. “My parents are… rather traditional, so I became the family’s tech support, in a sense.”

“Hm, that’s cool, I guess,” said Leonie as she flopped down into a chair and started scrolling through the news on her phone.

“It’s since become a hobby of mine,” continued Hubert. “Besides, I think knowledge of computers will come in useful for my future profession.”

“What are you studying again? Can’t be polisci like Lorenz… dunno how computers would be useful there.”

“Forensic investigation.”

Leonie looked up from her phone. “No really! Okay, that kinda makes sense with your personality and all… I’m taking a class on investigative journalism right now. Mind giving me some pointers?” she joked.

Hubert snorted. “Besides having “investigation” in their names, I’d hardly say our fields are very similar,” he said flatly. “I won’t be much help, I’m afraid.”

“Nuts.” Leonie looked back down at her phone. The headlines were plastered with news about the attempted terrorist attack early that morning. “Say… did you happen to see the news? About the two guys trying to blow up the Holy Tomb?”

“I certainly did,” nodded Hubert, reaching for a stick of RAM. “There were a few classmates of mine who went home this morning. Their parents wouldn’t let them stay here. I suppose they thought it was too dangerous at the moment.”

“Huh. That’s understandable I guess, but you can’t be running away from danger all the time.” Leonie leaned forward. “What do you think about the whole thing, Mr. Forensic Investigator?”

“It’s not a matter of what I think," replied Hubert, scoffing. "What matters is whether they can find evidence on those two men that can provide us with more information. As it stands right now, our governments still know next to nothing about Shambhala.”

“Oh, that’s what the terrorists call themselves, right?” Leonie tapped her chin. “Yeah. Aside from the fact that they’re Agarthan extremists. From Hyrm province in Adrestia, I think it was?”

“Yes, exactly." Hubert snipped at a plastic tie with a wire cutter. “What you just said is essentially all anyone knows about them. Which is very odd, considering most terror organizations in the world operate rather openly.”

“Huh… honestly it kind of makes sense though.” Leonie started thinking out loud. “Hyrm is a really remote region and also out of Leicester and Faerghus’s jurisdictions, and there haven’t been very many attacks in Adrestia at all, so I guess they don’t see it as a very pressing matter… although I know there has been a lot of pressure on them to do something about it. Especially since King Lambert’s assassination four years ago.”

Hubert looked up, raising an eyebrow. “You certainly seem to have quite a few insights on the situation already.”

“I’m a journalist. At least one in training,” Leonie shrugged. “It’s my job to keep up on the current political situation.”

“Sounds to me that perhaps _you_ should be the one to investigate.”

“Me? Investigate a terror organization? I don’t know about that one. Although, that said, my class does have an end-of-year project where we do have to produce a report of some kind…”

Leonie sat down again and started rapidly tapping on her phone screen, a gleam in her eye. “Hold on, I just remembered something else I read a while ago.”

Hubert didn’t reply, but Leonie could tell his interest was piqued as he put the final touches on the wiring and closed up the case.

“Found it.” Leonie jabbed a finger at her screen. “There was an archaeological dig in Hyrm territory about ten years back, a reputable one. They found a lot of old manuscripts basically describing crusades against the Agarthan people, wild stuff like that. And get this, it was all dated to _before_ the Imperial year system began.”

“You think… this could be linked with the current attacks? It’s a very long shot,” Hubert replied, not bothering to hide his skepticism.

“Call it a journalist’s intuition,” Leonie declared. “I'm starting to get excited. There's so much to be unearthed here.”

“And as you said, you can’t be running away from danger all the time, eh?” added Hubert. “If I can contribute to this investigation in any way, consider me in.”

“Now where to start?” wondered Leonie out loud. “I do know a guy who has an Agarthan friend… maybe I could ask him if he has any connections back home…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bunch of things:
> 
> I swear I'll do fluffy stuff again soon but I couldn't go right back to it after yesterday's chapter lol. Also, this was a great opportunity to expand on exactly what is going on behind the scenes in this AU, so I hope you enjoy nonetheless
> 
> A Hubert who isn't Edelgard's lackey is a little hard to define personality traits for so I might do another chapter with him in the future
> 
> Also if this chapter seems rushed/lower quality it's because it is, I was out all day today and was real tired when i finished it so yea


	6. 6 - Husky

Felix sat in the stands, shivering despite his jacket. He never would get used to the artificial chill of indoor ice rinks. He much preferred being outside.

Seats were filling up. Where the heck were the other guys? The game was about to start.

As if right on cue, Sylvain and Dimitri came trotting down the steps to Felix’s row. “Hey,” greeted Dimitri as he slid into a seat. “Sorry we’re late, Sylvain wouldn’t get out of bed.”

“Cut me some slack, alright?” Sylvain complained. “I got in from Garreg Mach at like two AM last night. Had to finish up an assignment and the trains only run hourly that late.”

Dimitri tutted. “You took so long that I fell asleep waiting for you. Could’ve just finished your assignment sooner.”

“Whatever.” Sylvain grinned. “At least I’m here and get to see our favorite blonde take the cup home. Where’s Annette?”

“She texted and said she was running late. She’ll be here,” Felix replied.

Sylvain whistled. “You have her number? I see how it is, Felix. Moving up in the world!”

“Shut your mouth,” Felix snapped, but the blush that spread across his face gave him away.

“Never would’ve thought I’d see Felix get a girl before Sylvain,” Dimitri commented with some amusement.

“Yeah, and I never thought my best friend would go visit a pig farm in Duscur instead of coming to my fencing nationals,” retorted Felix, shooting Dimitri a death glare.

Dimitri groaned. “Stop bringing that up. That was two years ago, and I’ve said countless times that it was a royal visit and I had to be there. Besides, that was how I met Dedue.”

“Whatever you say, _boar prince_,” taunted Felix, stressing the last two words.

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Dimitri grinned, cracking his knuckles.

“Can we not do this right here,” Sylvain began, but his words went unheard as Felix pounced on Dimitri and they began to wrestle.

Sylvain sighed but couldn’t help laughing. “Alright, ladies, ladies...”

There was a gasp from the aisle. Sylvain turned to see Annette standing there, hand over her mouth. “Whoa! What's going on here?"

The other two boys froze mid-scuffle. Dimitri looked up, saw Annette, and started laughing. He released his headlock on Felix, whose face had turned scarlet. Sylvain was literally rolling on the floor, clutching his sides.

Felix scrambled to his feet. “Uh... hi, Annette. T-this isn’t what it looks like.”

Annette grinned in reply. “I think it’s exactly what it looks like. You were getting your butt whooped by Dimitri, am I wrong?”

Sylvain guffawed, and Felix got even redder. “D-don’t worry about it. I’m glad you came, Annette.”

“Heh, no problem!” Annette smiled. “I don’t have too much going on, I got my homework done yesterday. I don’t really know much about hockey though, you’ll have to explain stuff to me.”

“Uh, yes, yes, that shouldn’t be a problem,” replied Felix. “Why don’t you sit down?” He gestured to the seat next to him. Dimitri had sat down again, and so had Sylvain, still rubbing tears of mirth from his eyes. As Annette took her seat, looking out over the arena, Felix shot another stink eye at Dimitri, who just smiled back, eyebrows raised.

Thankfully, before Sylvain could start laughing again, the lights dimmed and the teams skated out onto the ice.

“Ooh! Which team is Ingrid’s?” cried Annette, straining to see the numbers on the players’ jerseys.

“They’re the ones in blue,” said Dimitri. “The Fhirdiad Lions. Ingrid is number 14.”

“I thought Ingrid was from Fomoria?” Annette asked, a little confused.

“That's her hometown, yes,” explained Sylvain. “But she got drafted by the Lions last year. She’s been here since late July, she didn’t tell you?”

“No way!” Annette couldn’t decide whether she was excited or angry that she hadn’t known. “No, she didn’t!”

Felix smiled ruefully. “She can be a little hard to keep in touch with, she’s always so busy.”

“I’ll make sure I get her number later then.” Annette pointed at the other team. “Where are they from?”

“Those are the Sreng Huskies.” Felix’s eyes narrowed. “They _always_ make the finals. I suppose being that far north means they just play a lot more or something, but they’ve dominated the FJHL for years, both the men and women's leagues.”

Sylvain nodded. “Fhirdiad beat Duscur in the semifinals to make it here, but the Huskies are a whole different beast.”

“The crazy thing is that there was an international exhibition here a couple years ago, and a team from Ferox just completely crushed all of us.” Felix laughed. “There’s levels to this game.”

A roar went up from the crowd. The puck had dropped, and the first period had begun.

“Remind me which position Ingrid plays again?” Dimitri asked.

“Left wing,” replied Felix immediately. “Ugh, we’re actually on the wrong side of the arena, at least for this period.”

Annette gasped as the Lions goalie made a close save on a blistering wrist shot. “You’re going to have a heart attack if you react that strongly to every shot,” teased Felix.

“Yeah, but I’ll have you here to revive me if I do,” Annette teased back, leaning on Felix’s shoulder. Sylvain grinned and raised his eyebrows at Dimitri, who was trying to stifle a laugh himself.

Felix glared at his friends again and put a protective arm around Annette’s shoulder. “Oh yes, you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'm canadian and love hockey and was gonna center this chapter around it, but the core lions gang is just too fun to write. also here to further my felix/annette agenda bye


	7. 7 - Enchanted

Ignatz pulled his coat tighter around him as he hurried up the mountain trail. He’d promised to meet Mari at the outlook in time to watch the sunset together, but he’d gotten so engrossed in his painting that he’d lost track of time.

He rounded the final bend, and there she was, sitting in the gazebo, waiting patiently. She smiled at him shyly as he hurried to her side.

“So sorry I’m late,” apologized Ignatz in a rush. “I got caught up painting again.”

“It’s all right,” whispered Marianne in that quiet, wavering voice of hers. “I don’t mind...”

Ignatz opened the basket he’d been carrying. “I brought some pastries from the bakery that I thought you might like.”

“Oh!” Marianne dug her hands into the fabric of her tights. “You really shouldn’t have...”

She was so cute when she was like this. Ignatz smiled. “Anything for you, Marianne.”

Hesitantly, Marianne picked up one of the butter tarts and began eating it in small, neat bites. Ignatz helped himself to a buttery croissant.

For a while, neither of them said anything, just appreciating the view of the sunset sky over Edmund.

Finally, as the sky began to darken, Marianne turned to Ignatz. “I’d like to… ask your opinion on something,” she said quietly.

“Yes, what is it?” asked Ignatz, curious.

“Well, um… I was just wondering… what you would feel about going to meet my father at some point,” Marianne murmured. "We've been together four months now, so..."

“Oh! Your father… he’s the mayor, isn’t he?” Ignatz replied, a little surprised. “Well, truth be told, I’d be a little nervous, but…”

It was Ignatz’s turn to stare down at his shoes, blushing nervously. Marianne giggled.

She hesitated, then scooted a little closer. “Ignatz, you’ve done so much for me. You believed in me when no one else would. I think… we’re more than friends now… right?”

Ignatz looked up. Marianne was also blushing furiously, her cheeks tinged a rosy red. 

“Yes, yes… I think so too,” he replied. He made to put an arm around Marianne’s waist. “...May I?”

Marianne nodded, and Ignatz pulled her close. She nuzzled her head into his neck and hummed. Together, they stared off into the inky black sky, where the first stars of the night were just beginning to show themselves. A view worthy of Van Gogh himself, Ignatz thought.

Suddenly feeling bold, he bent down to give Marianne a quick peck on the cheek. She smiled at that, looking up at him contentedly.

“Alright, we’ll go see your father,” Ignatz decided. “I think I can get over my nerves, just this once…"

"For you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short one today. two shipping chapters in a row, but today called for only the most blessed pairing


	8. 8 - Frail

Lockers slammed and the hall was filled with chatter. It was the end of the day at Lysithea’s high school, and as usual she tried her best to drown out the din, focusing on undoing her combination lock. 

She opened her locker and began to stack her books neatly inside. Hmm, maybe she had better take her calculus notes home. It had been a bit since she’d last looked at any of the proofs, and there a unit test the following Tuesday.

Not that she was too worried. School came naturally to her. She had been the top student in her grade five years running now.

“Hey, Lysi! How was your day?”

Lysithea looked up and smiled. Maya Kirsten grinned down at her, her best friend for as long as she could remember. They were the same age, but Lysithea was ahead a grade schoolwise, courtesy of having skipped grade three. 

“Not bad, it was pretty slow today. How about you?” Lysithea finished packing her bag and swung her locker shut, putting the lock back on.

“Eh, nothing out of the ordinary,” Maya replied as she opened her own locker and began rummaging around. “Which is totally fine by me. I think I might want your help in math again, though.”

“I’d be happy to help,” Lysithea smiled.

“I’ve got my softball practice first though. Wanna come along? It’s a pretty nice day, you could definitely do with some fresh air.”

Lysithea shrugged. “Sure, why not? I’ve got nothing to do today.”

She followed Maya to the school’s baseball diamond and sat down in the bleachers. She felt a gentle breeze in her hair, and looked out over the field. Not a cloud in the sky. This was nice, she thought.

Maya ran off to begin her practice with her teammates, and Lysithea took out her calculus notes. Might as well get something done while she was here.

She didn’t get far, though, before Maya came back.

“Hey Lysi, the guy who normally helps with our practices isn’t here today. You think you can help us out? You’ll just have to run around fetching the the balls that we hit.”

Lysithea scrunched up her face. “Me? You know how I am with this kind of thing.”

“C’mon, it’s eeeeeasy,” Maya implored, dragging out the last word. “Please? It’ll make our lives a lot easier.”

Sighing, Lysithea considered it. As long as she was careful, the chance of her getting injured was really very low, and it was true she hadn’t done anything outside in a long time. It couldn’t be that bad, could it?

“Alright, fine, fine, I can do that,” she groaned, getting up and dragging herself to the outfield.

The practice went smoothly. Maya had many of the same physical gifts as her brother, and accordingly she was Ordelia High’s pinch hitter. Lysithea found herself running to and fro to retrieve all the home runs that Maya smacked out of the park.

By the time the practice wrapped up, she was exhausted. Maybe she really should get out more. Go on walks or something like that.

The team was packing up, talking and laughing among themselves. Lysithea trotted back towards the home base, carrying one last armful of softballs.

She was so tired at that point, though, that she lost her footing crossing over the pitcher’s mound, tripped, and fell. Softballs flew everywhere. A few of Maya’s teammates laughed and came over to help retrieve them.

“Ugh,” Lysithea groaned, picking herself back up. She felt a little lightheaded. Maybe this had been a bad idea.

A little unsteady on her feet, she bent down to pick up one of the balls nearest to her. It was only then that she noticed the large gash on her shin, and the blood that was beginning to spill forth from it.

Oh no. 

All Maya had asked of her was to be the ballboy, and now this was happening again. It had been years since the last time.

She turned to the guy nearest her, panic rising. “Hey. I need you to call an ambulance, right now,” she hissed.

He just grinned back. “An ambulance? For that? Well, excuse me, princess, but I think you can probably just walk it off.” He turned towards the bench and yelled, “Hey Maya, I’m not sure that your friend here has got what it takes to be a ballboy!”

“Just take it easy on her, ya goon,” yelled back Maya, not realizing what was happening.

Thankfully, another of Maya’s teammates had begun to take notice. “Hold on, Ty,” she said, pointing. “Is a scrape supposed to be, uh, bleeding quite that much?” 

She pointed at Lysithea’s leg, which was now glossy red with blood. It was even beginning to soak into her sock.

Ty looked down. “Uh… WHOA! What on earth?”

“I’m… a hemophiliac,” was all Lysithea managed to get out, as a wave of vertigo washed over her. She took a couple shaky steps in Maya’s direction before her knees gave way and she fell down again, blood and gravel staining her clothes. 

“Oh Sothis, what the heck is going on,” exclaimed Ty, eyes wide in shock. “MAYA! What the heck is a ‘hemophiliac’?”

Over at home base, for a split second, Maya was confused at the sudden question. Then she understood just what it meant.

“Oh, no.” She whipped out her phone, immediately dialing 999. “Bring her over to the bleachers, right now, and get something around whatever’s bleeding! It means her body doesn’t stop bleeding by itself!”

The world around Lysithea was now spinning as she felt strong hands lift her small frame off the ground. Gritting her teeth and trying her best not to black out, she yanked up her left sleeve and choked out, “Show them… this… when they come…”

Around her slim wrist was a silver medical ID bracelet. Curious, one of Maya’s teammates read out the engravings.

“‘Lysithea von Ordelia… Haemophilia, blood type O-… Griscelli syndrome, type 2?’ What even…”

A soft, regular beeping, 90 beats per minute. The telltale smell of disinfectant. Lysithea knew even before she opened her eyes where she was. She’d been here too many times before.

She cracked one eye open. Maya was sitting there with her parents at the bedside, speaking in hushed whispers. Shifting in the bed, she felt the familiar IV in her left arm. 

“Mom? Dad?” she croaked.

Her mom was the first one to her. “Oh Lysi, thank Sothis you’re alright,” she cried, squeezing her tight.

“I’m so sorry, Lysi, I never should’ve asked you to be the ballboy!” Maya spoke up, face creased with guilt. “I never thought it would come to this…”

Lysithea exhaled. “It’s alright, Maya. It was my decision. Trust me, I also wish it was something I never had to take into account…”

“Apparently they had just gotten in a fresh shipment of O-type blood yesterday,” said Lysithea’s father with a shudder. “I can’t imagine what could have happened if they hadn’t had enough. I think we all have a lot to be thankful for.”

“There would have been even more complications if your wound had gotten infected too,” Lysithea’s mother added. “I agree.”

A dinging noise. Maya’s phone.

“Who is that?” Lysithea asked tiredly.

“Ah, that might be my mom…” Maya pulled out her phone to check, but her face quickly morphed into an expression of surprise as her eyes flickered over the screen.

“Something up?” asked Lysithea’s dad, frowning.

“Well, I messaged Raphael about Lysi’s condition while she was in the operating room yesterday,” Maya began, “and he did some asking around. Apparently, Mercedes told him there’s been some new research going on at GMU by a Dr. von Essar…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whump but there's hope at the end :o
> 
> to be continued...? (someday)


	9. 9 - Swing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall ever just imagine what edelgard would be like in a bar fight

“You’re certain this is the place Caspar was talking about?” asked Edelgard dubiously as Ferdinand pulled up to a seedy-looking street. 

“It’s definitely the right address,” Ferdinand replied, looking around a little concernedly. “I thought Caspar would have better taste than this, though.”

“If I had to guess, it’s probably because most high-class clubs will actually check for ID,” Edelgard remarked. “At least we’re unlikely to get recognized here. Hopefully we won’t get into any trouble.”

“That doesn’t do much to reassure me,” said Ferdinand as they stepped out of the car. Loud music could be heard playing from several nearby buildings, and people walked up and down the street, shouting and laughing, some holding bottles of beer or spirits.

“Caspar described this as the place with the ‘hottest nightlife in Enbarr’,” Ferdinand continued. “I suppose it does depend on your definition of ‘hot’.”

Edelgard looked around. If “hot” meant “lively”, this place certainly was. It certainly lacked the stuffiness of any royal party she had attended in the past, and that was something she could appreciate.

“Alright, Caspar said he’d meet us at… the Black Eagle Pub,” Ferdinand said, checking his phone. “Heh. Sound familiar?”

“I can assure you the Adrestian royal family does not run any pubs,” Edelgard replied with some amusement. “Lead on.”

They found the place after a few minutes of wandering. It was rather nondescript, and a little out of the way. “Out of all the bars in the area, I wonder why Caspar likes this one in particular…?” Ferdinand mused.

“Only ‘cause they have the best strawberry daiquiri in Adrestia!” Edelgard jumped at the sound of Caspar’s voice. She turned to see him standing behind them, grinning widely. “Sup, guys! Didn’t get lost, eh?”

Ferdinand couldn’t help but smile. Caspar was so easily excitable. “I will admit I very rarely come to this part of Enbarr,” he said. “But we’re here now. Good to see you again, Caspar.”

“Likewise,” said Edelgard, giving him a quick hug. “How is your rugby tournament going?”

“Ah, we lost this afternoon,” Caspar shrugged, putting his hands behind his head. “But hey, we don’t have a match tomorrow, so that just means it’s party time!”

“That sounds like the Caspar I know. Lead the way,” Ferdinand gestured towards the door of the pub.

They found seats at the bar and sat down. “What can i get for you?” asked the bartender gruffly, walking up to them.

“One strawberry daiquiri,” declared Caspar with no hesitation. Ferdinand went straight for the most expensive beer on the menu. Edelgard opted for a Sreng firewhisky.

“Firewhisky?” asked Caspar with his eyes wide. “i never thought you were this adventurous.”

“I’ve tried a few drinks in my time,” said Edelgard, smiling coyly. “At least i have better taste than Ferdinand here.”

“Look, El, I’m the son of a famous politician,” Ferdinand pointed out. “It’s pretty much my job to get drunk, and take a wild guess as to which alcoholic beverage is served in the greatest quantities.”

“He’s got a point,” Caspar grinned. “A man after my own heart.”

Edelgard gestured to the drinks that the barkeeper had just brought them. “What’s with that, then?”

“Special occasion,” replied Caspar without missing a beat. He raised his glass for a toast, and Edelgard and Ferdinand were more than happy to oblige.

The three friends had a lot to catch up on, and even more to share. Some highlights of the conversation included Edelgard’s embarrassing stories about the Adrestian royal family, Ferdinand making jokes at the expense of several popular politicians (that only got crasser as he got more drunk), and Caspar raving repeatedly about his favorite football team.

Edelgard hadn’t meant to have more than a few drinks, but she quickly lost track of time. At one point, Caspar got up to use the washroom, and Edelgard checked her phone. 

It read 2:45 AM. Nice.

She and Ferdinand sat there, contemplating their life decisions.

“How many beers are you at, Ferd?” she asked, feeling more than a little woozy.

“I lost count at five,” slurred Ferdinand. “This is gonna be real fun in the morning, isn’t it?”

Edelgard actually giggled. Really bad sign. “Ooh. I’m thinking maybe we should go when Caspar gets back…”

There was shouting from the right side of the bar. Nothing out of the ordinary. Edelgard ignored it and took another sip of whisky, nursing her growing headache. 

The shouting grew louder, and Ferdinand scrunched up his eyebrows. “Hey, that sounds like Caspar.”

“Mm. So it does.”

It took Edelgard much longer than it should have to realize what that meant, but by the time she turned her head, Caspar was already in the middle of a full-on brawl, swinging his fists wildly. He was losing though. Apparently he had gotten into an argument with an entire table, and was vastly outnumbered.

“Ferd. We gotta go help him.” She pointed.

He turned his head, took in the scene, and groaned. “You really want me to get in there? I’m so drunk I won’t last more than a minute.”

“C’mon,” she insisted, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him across the room. It wasn’t the alcohol that was making her do this. Definitely not, nope.

And then they were in the melee, fists flying. Edelgard let her muscle memory take over. Thank Seiros for all those self-defense classes her uncle had forced her to take. She decked one guy in the head, then whirled and rammed an elbow into another’s stomach. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Caspar headbutting another patron into submission.

“Hey, good of you to stop by!” he shouted. Edelgard just grunted in response.

Nearby, Ferdinand ended a wrestling match by basically just falling on top of his adversary. There was a crunching noise which Edelgard decided to not think about. 

“You’re really sure we won’t regret this tomorrow?” he yelled over the din, struggling to get up. “I think we’re going to regret this tomorrow.”

Edelgard grabbed an empty bottle from a nearby table and smashed it over another attacker’s head. “That’s something for sober me to worry about.”


	10. 10 - Pattern

“Attention all passengers. We are currently in a holding pattern over Brigid International Airport. We are now sixth in the queue for landing. Thank you for your patience.”

Dorothea sighed. Petra had been right. Brigid really did need to work on their airport infrastructure. She’d never heard of Hoshido, its next-door neighbor, having any such problems.

She had been invited to DJ in a famous Brigidian music festival, and this could potentially be her international breakthrough. Her music was already well-known throughout all of Fódlan, but with this opportunity, she could finally show the world what she was made of.

Petra had said she would be there to greet her at the airport. Unusual, considering Petra was second in line to ascend the Brigidian throne, but then again she was also Dorothea’s biggest fan. Dorothea wondered if her English had gotten any better.

The plane banked to the left again, for what felt like the twentieth time in an hour. Avengers: Infinity War continued to play idly through Dorothea’s headphones. 

Tearing her eyes from the window and the city below her, Dorothea resignedly turned her attention back to her Switch screen. Dash, double dash, wall cling… dang it. Dead again. How did Lysithea always make this look so easy?

“Attention all passengers. We are currently in a holding pattern over Brigid International Airport. We are now fifth in the queue for landing. Thank you for your patience.”

Dorothea groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super short cause
> 
> 1\. this prompt is dumb
> 
> 2\. i have midterms and shouldn't be writing but i still wanna keep this going. stuff will probably be shorter for the next bit
> 
> also if you know which game Dorothea is playing you get a cookie


	11. 11 - Snow

The loud beeping of Claude’s alarm jerked him awake. Ugh. He had been having a nice dream, too, one where he _didn’t_ have two big assessments today…

He shuffled his way down to the kitchen and grabbed his usual cereal and milk, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

It was bio first thing in the morning, then a social studies in-class paper later in the day. Claude wasn’t worried about the second one, his ability to argue even the most ridiculous of positions was unparalleled, but he had better look over his bio notes on the bus.

As he started on his cereal, he frowned. It was _cold_ this morning. Wasn’t it still early October? Better remember to grab his jacket on the way out.

He pulled up Snapchat and started scrolling through stories as he ate. Not much interesting had happened overnight, typical for a weekday. 

He always saved Hilda’s for last, though. Their snaps to each other were practically sacred, their streak still going strong after nearly four years.

This morning Hilda was winking flirtatiously at him in the mirror of her dorm bathroom, still in her jammies. The caption read “lucky guy gets a snow day smh”.

Claude squinted at his screen, not understanding at first as his groggy brain slowly put two and two together. Then it hit him, and he dashed to the window, pulling it wide.

Sunlight streamed into the room, revealing a wintry wonderland outside, everything covered by a solid four inches of snow.

Gaping, Claude stared out the window, then down at his phone again, then back up again. This was definitely one of the earliest snowfalls in his recent memory.

A smile slowly spread across his face as his brain began to swim with possibility. 

Stream? Oh yeah. Check out that new battle pass? You bet. Cold one with the boys later? Why not?

Mood suddenly much lighter, Claude practically skipped back upstairs to grab a sweater. 

Today was gonna be a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can guarantee you that claude is partnered on twitch


	12. 12 - Dragon

Byleth pulled into the apartment complex’s parking lot. Finally, Friday afternoon. It had been yet another exhausting week of lectures, faculty meetings, and marking papers. He was ready for a break, and that party tomorrow should be a good one...

He made his way up to the apartment, and as he unlocked the door, he heard his sister talking. “Oh hey, Byleth’s home,” came her voice from the kitchen.

Ah. He could tell from Belize's tone of voice who she was talking to.

Putting down his bag near the door, Byleth turned the corner to see her standing at the kitchen table, Skype open on her laptop. A glance at the screen revealed Jeralt, looking tired as ever, along with Sopdet, their younger sister, grinning and waving.

“What’s going on?” Byleth asked, walking over. 

“Not much,” replied Belize. “Sophie just wanted to say hi.”

“Hey, Sophie! How’s it going?” Byleth asked, waving. Sopdet's eyes lit up upon seeing him, and she began to describe her school day in great detail. Off camera, Belize rolled her eyes.

These days, Byleth didn’t get to see his little sister much anymore, something which he was a little sad about. The age gap certainly made it difficult. Eleven years prior, Jeralt had been on a dig in northern Nabata when a strange twist of events had resulted in her adoption as a baby. Byleth and Belize had already been ten years old. 

Unfortunately, Belize didn’t share her brother’s fondness for their baby sister. In fact, Sopdet had been one of the main contributors to their moving out. Byleth always felt a little pang of guilt when he thought about it, despite Jeralt having assured him that it was fine. 

Sopdet was still going. Boy, she really could talk. Byleth started wondering again how his dad was able to keep up with his own professorial work and singlehandedly raise a sassy 11-year old at the same time.

“Yeah, so tomorrow afternoon we’re going to the carnival. My friends and you two will be there, and there'll be cotton candy... and we can ride the Dragon Coaster... and it’ll be great!”

“Whoa wait, wha?” Byleth wasn't sure he'd heard that right. He turned his head to his sister, who just cocked an eyebrow and nodded.

“It’s our birthday, Byleth!” Sopdet chirped. “Dad said this party is for all of us!” 

“Aw, dad…” Byleth groaned, deflating. “Look, I’d love to go, but I already had plans with some of the guys…”

Jeralt just flashed him a stern look. “You’re coming, kid. You can still go out later in the evening. Carnival closes by eight.” 

“We’re not getting away with this one, By,” interjected Belize, shrugging. “I had this conversation with him already.”

Byleth sighed. “Alright, fine, fine. I’ll reschedule.”

“All right!” shouted Sopdet, spinning in a circle. “This is gonna be sooo fun!”

Despite his disappointment, Byleth couldn’t help but chuckle. “See you guys tomorrow, then?”

“Yep. Good night, you two.” Jeralt waved and hung up.

“Guess that’s that, then…” Belize groaned, putting her computer to sleep. “Dad really had to give Sophie our birthday too, didn’t he?”

“Well… I mean, that’s totally something dad would do,” Byleth pointed out, now rifling through the fridge. “I mean heck, just look at our names.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Belize agreed, leaning back against the table. “After all these years I still can’t get over Sophie’s name. It’s so funny. It's so _dad_.”

“What, the fact that he literally gave her the Goddess’s name except in a different dialect? Yeah…” Byleth finally found a can of Coke, opening it with a snap. “Wasn’t quite cheeky enough to completely blaspheme against Rhea, but still went for it in the most passive-aggressive way possible.”

Belize grinned. “Our names too. I mean, aren’t you named after like, some wacko mythical demon?”

“Yeah. Can’t say I was too happy when I found _that_ out.” Byleth took a swig of his drink. “That said, I think I prefer it over being named after some random city in Central Archanea.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Belize rolled her eyes, playfully smacking her brother on the arm. “It was the site of one of his most famous discoveries, so I can kinda respect it. Kinda…”

“Kinda,” Byleth echoed. “Oh yeah, changing the subject, how’s that time travel project that you were working on? Haven’t asked in a while.”

“Oh yeah.” Belize eyes lit up. She loved talking about her work. “Well, we did make a big breakthrough the other day…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter WAS supposed to be centered more around the roller coaster but it somehow turned into domestic fluff instead
> 
> also if anyone wants to see the world im basing this off of, here it is: https://i.imgur.com/vOT4oie.png
> 
> if you want any rationale I'll give it but I can't promise it'll be good :pp


	13. 13 - Ash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: cursed

“Hey wait, let me cut the firewood!”

“Raphael, you already carried like all our stuff from the car. Let me do something for once, alright?”

Sylvain’s only contribution to the campsite setup so far had been his own lawn chair, and he leaned back in it, watching Leonie and Raphael argue over who got to use the axe. Dedue was behind him, silently setting up the tent.

“How about we make it a competition, then? Whoever can split a log the cleanest wins.”

“You’re on!”

Raphael went first. Hefting the axe, he brought it smashing down on one of the logs they had gathered. Splinters flew everywhere, and Sylvain flinched as a few stung his face.

“Ha! No way you’re winning with that kinda swing! You’ve got no technique!” Leonie shouted, snatching the axe and another log from the pile.

Sylvain decided he didn’t feel like sticking around for the rest of the competition. Maybe he’d go check out who else was at the campsite instead. It was a long weekend, so there were bound to be at least a few cute girls he could hit on…

Stepping through the forested path into the next clearing, he was surprised when he saw a familiar face.

“Professor… Eisner?”

“Oh!” Belize looked up from the tent pole she had been struggling with, eyebrows raised. “Oh, hey! I know you. You’re, uh… Sylvain Gautier, right?”

“In the flesh.” Sylvain grinned and spread his arms wide. “I’ve heard things about you from my profs. Youngest professor ever at GMU, right?”

“Well, technically speaking, my brother is a minute younger than me,” Belize corrected. “But sure, let’s call it that.”

“So what brings you here on this fine October weekend?” asked Sylvain, leaning against a tree. He knew Ingrid would be all over him right now, flirting with a professor, but at the moment he didn’t really care. (Did he ever?)

“Is a professor not allowed to enjoy camping too?” Belize replied, grinning. “I’m just here with some of my TAs.”

“Oh, I don’t know… I was under the impression you guys are always cooped up in your labs whenever you aren’t lecturing,” teased Sylvain. “Who has time for hobbies, anyways?”

Belize finally got the tent pole straightened out. “Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you then, Mr. Gautier,” she said, playing along. “I’m only going to be able to publish _five_ papers this year.”

Sylvain actually laughed. Not many girls could keep up with his banter. He liked this. He was about to make another wisecrack when he was rudely interrupted.

“SYLVAIN!!”

Shoot, that was Leonie’s voice. “Er, I’d love to stay longer, but I think I’d better go,” Sylvain apologized. He considered asking for the professor’s number, but thought better of it. Even he had his limits.

“Alright, I’ll see you around,” said Belize, smiling. “Have a good time with your friends.”

“Oh, I will,” replied Sylvain, winking. “You too.”

He made his way back to his own campsite, where Leonie threw a chunk of wood at him and told him he was cooking dinner.

Later that night, Leonie, Raphael and Dedue were sitting around a roaring fire, tipsily roasting marshmallows. Well, except for Dedue. He was soberly roasting marshmallows despite having had three beers. As for Sylvain, an argument could be made for him being past the tipsy stage. However, he had just left to use the campground’s outhouse.

A lively conversation between Raphael and Leonie about workout schedules was suddenly interrupted by an ear-piercing scream in the distance. Everyone jumped.

“What the heck was that?” Leonie yelped.

Raphael wrinkled his brow. “Sounded like it came from… that way,” he said, pointing down a forest path.

Dedue frowned. “The outhouse is that way…”

The three looked at each other, then back again at the path.

“Should we go… make sure he’s okay?” Leonie asked doubtfully. “It’s real dark, maybe he tripped on something…”

“I can go,” Dedue said, standing up, but just then Sylvain emerged into view, his face flushed and somehow displaying several emotions at once.

“What happened, dude?” Raphael asked, confused.

“I… I don’t know whether I should be impressed, mad, or embarrassed,” sputtered Sylvain. “Maybe all at the same time.”

“What happened?” Leonie repeated impatiently.

Sylvain whirled and pointed down the path to the outhouse. “S-Some sicko… spread CAMPFIRE ASHES all over the outhouse seats! Do you know how gritty I am down under right now!?”

There was a moment of silence, and then everyone burst out laughing. Everyone except Sylvain, of course. Even ever-stoic Dedue held his stomach as he doubled over, laughing hard enough to give himself the cramps.

“It’s not funny!” Sylvain shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Who would do something like this!?”

Wiping tears from his eyes, Raphael spoke up. “I think… our campsite has been visited tonight by the Ashen Demon.”

Leonie chimed in, still laughing. “I’m honestly surprised you’ve never heard of it, Sylvain. It’s a campsite legend that’s sprung up these past few months. Nobody knows when or where the demon will strike next.”

“It appears to me that you received the honor of being its most recent victim,” added Dedue, smiling cheekily. This sent Leonie and Raphael back into hysterics. 

Sylvain buried his head in his hands.

One of Belize's TA friends put his beer bottle down, turning to her. “You hear that scream? What the heck was that?”

Belize rubbed her still-ashy hands on the grass beside her. She couldn’t stop the grin that was spreading across her face.

“I’m sure it was nothing important.”


	14. 14 - Overgrown

Byleth kneaded another handful of fertilizer into the soil and wrinkled his nose. Ugh, this stuff smelled awful. It was hard to believe that it actually _helped_ the plants grow.

He heard the soft click of the door, and footsteps from across the greenhouse. “Mercie! You’re finally here. Got off late?” he asked, standing up and turning around.

“Oh, yes,” Mercedes sighed as she walked across the room, putting her knapsack down on a bench. “We had a bit of an emergency near the end of my shift. Septic shock. One of the surgeons must have been careless. Thank the Goddess we managed to get him stabilized.”

“Yikes.” Byleth exhaled. “I really don’t know how you do it. Being an ICU nurse isn’t something I’d be able to handle.”

Mercedes gave a wan smile. “It’s certainly stressful sometimes, but the lives we’re able to save more than make up for it. Enough of that, though. We’re here to garden, aren’t we?”

“Ah, yes. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think of work some more,” Byleth apologized. “What do you think of the setup?”

He swept his arm over the back corner of the greenhouse. It was filled with many different varieties of plants, many growing intertwined together, and vines ran up, down and around the scaffolding. 

“It’s very… wild,” observed Mercedes, eyes roving up and down. “I do like it, though. Is all of this just you?”

“No,” admitted Byleth. “Dedue comes here fairly often as well. It’s a combined effort. Looks nicer during the day.”

He motioned to a pair of gloves and a bag of seeds. “I wanted to plant some forget-me-nots tonight. Why don’t we do that together?”

“I’d love that.” Mercedes smiled. “Before I get myself all dirty, though…”

She reached up to Byleth and cupped his face in her hands, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks for inviting me again,” she murmured. “I love spending time with you.”

Byleth blushed. “Me too, Mercie. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone realize mercie is actually canonically older than byleth?


	15. 15 - Legend

Dimitri walked into the Fhirdiad Academy's library, heavy bookbag digging into his shoulders. Now where was Ingrid? He really had to get going on that paper, and he had a few ideas he wanted to bounce off her. 

There she was, sitting at a table in the back corner, bent over her laptop. Dimitri hurried over.

She looked up as he approached. “Hey, Dimitri. There you are. What’s up?”

He sat down, pulling out his own computer. “I was starting on the paper for social studies, and I couldn’t quite decide what to write on. I figured you could help me out.”

“You only just started? It’s due in a week!” 

“I’ve had two royal events I had to attend in the past four days,” Dimitri said curtly. “I haven’t had much time.” He looked over at Ingrid’s screen. “Er… what are you doing? That doesn’t look like homework…”

Ingrid quickly clicked away from the YouTube tab she had been on, which - big surprise - contained hockey highlights. “Well… I got a little carried away in my research,” she said sheepishly.

Dimitri chuckled, raised an eyebrow. “Research?”

“Oh! Well, the topic of the paper is inequality, right? So I’m writing about the inequality between men and women’s hockey.” Ingrid's eyes narrowed. “A topic I’m pretty familiar with.”

“Ah. I should have guessed as much.” Dimitri rubbed his chin, thinking. “I do remember watching the Olympics a few years back. The women’s hockey final was honestly more exciting than the men’s one…”

“Are you talking about Remi 2014? The one in Ilia, right?” Ingrid excitedly clicked back to YouTube and started typing. “Oh, that match was absolutely legendary.”

“You sound like a hockey historian,” Dimitri said, amused.

“It’s not like there’s a whole lot of history for women’s hockey anyways,” said Ingrid dismissively. “Look at this.”

Dimitri leaned over to look at the screen.

“Ylisse was leading 2-0 with four minutes left in the third period, and Ferox came all the way back to win in overtime,” Ingrid explained as the video played. “It’s probably the greatest women’s hockey match of all time.”

“Your inspirations, I suppose?” Dimitri asked. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Ingrid looked like a little kid, staring at the screen eagerly.

Ingrid nodded vigorously. “Totally. My ultimate goal is to go play in the NWHL at some point.”

“Well, I don’t doubt your ability,” said Dimitri, leaning back in his chair. “You’re constantly on the rink practicing, maybe too much for your own good. Sylvain told me the only reason they didn’t choose you for the Faerghian national team this year is because you’re still in high school.”

“Yeah.” Ingrid bit her lip in frustration. “Just one more year…”

“Actually, I’ve even never asked. We are graduating this year, so are you just going to be playing full-time for the Lions next year, then?”

“Yeah, I will be. The thing is, women’s hockey isn’t really big enough here for me to actually make a living doing it, and Dad wants me to do post-secondary anyways, so I’ll still be enrolling at GMU with all you guys. I'll just take a couple distance courses per semester or something like that.”

“Sounds like a lot of work, though I guess if anyone would be up to it, it'd be you.” 

“Well, I hope that's the case,” Ingrid laughed. She leaned forward over the table, eyes bright. “I'm really looking forward to it. You know the Lions' coach? She's from Suomi. That'll definitely help me up my game.”

Dimitri laughed. “Alright, alright. Enough about hockey. Can you help me with my paper now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'm honestly starting to burn out of writing, and it's only been half the month...
> 
> what do you guys think? do you want me to continue daily updates? if so, I'll continue because inktober is about developing discipline after all. 
> 
> if not though, I might update less regularly (I'll still eventually finish all 31 prompts though, it's just a matter of when)


	16. 16 - Wild

Shamir tapped away at her keyboard, steam rising from the hot coffee in the thermos on her desk. This was absolutely the worst part of being the head of security. Shootouts or terrorist attacks? Nothing she hadn’t seen before. 

Now budget reports… that was a different story.

Groaning, she ran through the numbers again. Something wasn’t lining up. Was that bad math on her part, or did she actually have to chew someone out again for overspending?

She picked up the calculator on her desk again with a resigned sigh, but just then, she heard a commotion from outside. A very loud, Catherine-sounding commotion.

“You have got to be kidding me,” grumbled Shamir as she got up from her desk. She stuck her head out her office door. “Hey! What’s going on out here?”

“Hey Shamir!! Reporting for the night shift!!” 

Shamir just stared for a moment, then shook her head. Catherine was bouncing off the walls. Figuratively, of course, but she looked like she could do so literally as well if she wanted to. Her eyes were bloodshot and Shamir could see her vibrating from her office door. 

“…Catherine. What the heck?” 

“Oh, sorry!! I, uh, I didn’t sleep much last night so I drank some of this,” and at this Catherine lifted a large can of Monster at Shamir, “to keep me awake for tonight. I hope you don’t mind!”

Shamir let out a long, slow exhale. It was going to be one of _those_ nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authors note: i do not condone excessive use of monster energy


	17. 17 - Ornament

Whew. Not her greatest performance ever, but Dorothea was still satisfied. The crowd had loved her, and even wanted an encore. First Fódlan, then Brigid, next the world?

She made her way backstage back to her dressing room. Awaiting her was a very star-struck Petra.

“Dorothea! That was incredible!” she cried, hands clasped in front of her. “I have never heard such a combination of music before! How is that you are mixing opera singing and dubstep - and it be sounding good??”

“Just my newest musical experiment, no biggie,” winked Dorothea, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m happy you liked it, though.”

“I am more than liking it! I am loving it! When will you be releasing the album?”

“In a couple weeks, maybe,” Dorothea said as she sat down in front of the mirror, taking a couple bottles and a brush out of her makeup case.

“What are you doing now?” asked Petra curiously.

“Just stripping down a little,” Dorothea explained. “Even I don’t normally wear this much bling.” 

Petra watched as Dorothea took off earrings and rings and removed some of her makeup. “You are right, this is certainly being… much ornamentation,” she observed. “Does it take you a long time preparing before your performance?”

Dorothea laughed, a little embarrassed. “Yeah. Maybe a little longer than I care to admit.”

She finished up, zipping up her makeup case. “Well, where do you want to go now? I’m free for the rest of the night.”

“Actually, about that…” Petra perked up. “My mother said that she wanted to meet you.”

Dorothea’s eyes went wide. “W-wait. What? Me?”

“Well, I told her that when I was in Fódlan, you were being a very big help to me! She said she would like to have a meal with you.”

“Isn’t… she the daughter of the Brigidian king, though?” asked Dorothea, suddenly nervous. She wasn’t sure she liked where this was going.

“Oh, don’t worry!” Petra shook her head vigorously. “Brigid’s royalty are not like that of Adrestia or Faerghus. In Brigid, all people are equal! We will just be going to my mother’s favorite Sacaean restaurant.”

“Even then…” Dorothea cast a dubious glance back at herself in the mirror. “Oh, you should’ve told me earlier. Now I’m going to have to dress up again.”

“No, no!” Petra insisted. “It is alright! My mother will not care.”

Dorothea took a deep breath. It was silly, she knew, and she would be making Petra wait.

But despite that, she couldn’t stop herself from sitting down and pulling her bag’s zipper back open.

Someday she would get over herself. But today was not that day.

“…I’m sorry, Petra,” she mumbled lamely as she started on her glam routine once again.

“…but I care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felt a little angsty today


	18. 18 - Misfit

Lost in memories again.

It shouldn’t have mattered. He was the crown prince of Almyra. Apparently though, his mother being from Leicester made all the difference to his elementary school classmates.

“Ew, it’s Claude.”

“Don’t let him join the game, he’s weak. He’ll just pull us down.”

It never stopped. 

When he was eleven, he moved with his mother back to her hometown in Riegan province, Leicester. His father wished them well, unable to leave his position, but he also could not bear to see his son be tormented any longer.

It didn’t get better. In Fódlan, the outright racism was no longer present, but in its place were the silent snubs, the whispers that Claude heard occasionally in the hallway. This time it was just all because of his skin color. 

He kept up a facade at school, and always having to think on his feet, he developed a sharp tongue and quick mind to match. It didn’t make the discrimination feel any better, though.

There were a few times he came home to his mother’s waiting arms, and no longer having to keep up his carefree image, his eyes would fill with tears and he would just let it all out.

“Even the principal called me a misfit,” he remembered sobbing once. “Isn’t the principal supposed to be against bullying?”

Ever patient, his mother rubbed his back, comforting him. “He is supposed to be,” she had said. “And I won’t defend him. But know this. Even if he does call you a misfit, always stay true to yourself.”

“Don’t let anyone change who you are.”

Claude had taken her advice to heart, and it had certainly shaped who he had become, now in his final year of high school and ready to graduate. 

But the pain never went away.

He heard a ripping sound and opened his eyes. Had he really been that tensed up? He had clenched his fist so hard that he had torn his polisci textbook, which lay open to a section on discrimination. It was what had brought back all these memories in the first place.

The faint sound of reality TV drifted from the living room. Claude got up. He hadn’t meant to revisit all those memories tonight.

Maybe mom could help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> c l a u d e a n g s t  
l  
a  
u  
d  
e  
a  
n  
g  
s  
t
> 
> also oops im late


	19. 19 - Sling

The receptionist looked up from her monitor. “Hello. What can I do for you?”

Belize nodded curtly. “Hi. I’m here to visit Jeralt Eisner.”

“Alright. A moment, please.” She picked up the phone on her desk. As she rang for an escort, Belize let her mind wander as she looked around the reception area. She’d never been much of a fan of hospitals. Too sterile and artificial, blinding lights everywhere. Then again, she supposed most labs were like this too.

“Belize?” 

“Oh! Manuela!” Belize turned around, recognizing her voice. 

“In the flesh,” said Manuela, looking a little weary. “You’re here to see your dad, right? Come with me.”

She led Belize down the halls to the recovery ward, where Jeralt was waiting. He was lying back on a nest of pillows, looking haggard and worse for the wear. A sling suspended from the ceiling elevated his broken right leg.

“Dad!” Belize ran to him, squeezing him tight. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Jeralt smiled wryly. “So am I. Seems like this old body can’t keep up anymore.”

“Promise me you won’t put yourself in danger in the future,” Belize implored. “I don’t want to lose you, not for the sake of academia.”

“Your brother said the exact same thing,” said Jeralt, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I have the best kids ever. Your mother would be proud…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haven't really had the motivation recently to write anything longer :p


	20. 20 - Tread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did say i would finish this someday. finally getting my fe3h motivation back so I will try my best, but I don't wanna burn myself out again so you still shouldn't expect regular updates ;p

Frigid December wind stinging his cheeks, Hubert walked up the pathway towards Anna's Convenience, pulling his scarf tighter around his neck. It was eight in the morning and still dark out, but he'd received a call from the Garreg Mach police dispatch and had been told to come as soon as possible. Not that he would ever turn down an opportunity for police work anyways. Pulling open the front door, he stepped inside.

Alois was there, talking with a very distraught-looking Anna. 

"It's a disaster, sir! You have to catch the culprit and bring him to justice! I'm going to lose so much profit from this!"

"Yes, ma'am. We're doing our best," said Alois, already looking tired despite the day just having started. He turned his head, hearing the door chime. "Ah, Hubert. You're here."

"So I am," nodded Hubert. "What is the situation?"

"Well, Anna got robbed last night, and frankly, we're stumped. We found boot treads leading _away_ from the back window, but no tracks leading _towards_ the store that weren't ours or Anna's..." 

Alois scratched his head. "It's all very strange. You've helped us with a few cases in the past, so I figured I'd call. Hope you don't mind."

Hubert smirked slightly. "Well, it comes with the line of work, does it not? Now, what was stolen?"

"The money in the register, some jewelry, a few e-cigs, and a winter jacket," listed off Anna. "He also made a huge mess of our snack and drink sections."

"That is... a very strange combination of items," commented Hubert, frowning. "I take it there's no security camera footage?"

Alois snorted and rolled his eyes. "How did you guess? Anna here didn't invest in cameras OR a security system. To cut costs, apparently. Makes our life harder, doesn't it?"

"I suspected as much," Hubert sighed. The gears were beginning to turn in his head. "...Let me see those tracks in the back."

Alois led him to the back storage area, where the window showed clear signs of forced entry. No broken glass, which would've really helped. This burglar wasn't stupid.

Hubert opened the back door and stepped outside again. The tracks had already been taped off, and a few officers and an investigator were talking nearby in the dim light. The sky was tinged a dark grey, sun just beginning to come up.

"Oh, Vestra, it's you. Just the man I was hoping to see," said the investigator, having noticed Hubert's approach. "Glad you're here. This is a weird one. We don't have a whole lot to work with."

"Alois said as much," said Hubert, nodding. "Is there anything unusual with the tracks? Where do they lead?"

"Well, the ground below the window seems to have been smoothed over, perhaps the burglar trying to cover up his landing. As for where they go, they end at the main road, which unfortunately got plowed an hour ago. Safe to say we won't be getting anything from there."

Hubert glared at the area under the window, hand on his chin.

"You're _sure_ there were no identical tracks leading towards the store?"

"None."

"Hm."

There wasn't any other way the burglar could have entered besides on foot, at least none that Hubert could think of. Anna's store was large and separate from any other nearby buildings. If there were no tracks, then there had to be another explanation. What, though?

He thought back to the strange selection of stolen items. One thing he had learned from the few cases he had worked on was to never discount any information.

A suspicion began to form in his mind. Maybe they were going about this all wrong.

He strode closer to the taped-off area and observed the boot prints closely. There was something just a little bit off about the spacing of the feet, he remembered staring at tracks for hours on end in one of his forensic classes...

"What was the time range of the break-in?" Hubert asked the investigator, straightening up.

"Could've been any time from 10 PM to 5 AM," came the reply. "Why?"

"I have a hunch," was all Hubert said before turning and walking back into the store.

They found the culprit sleeping in one of the janitorial closets. As the officers handcuffed him and led him off to a police car, Alois shook his head and stared at Hubert.

"I have give it to you again, Hubert," he said. "How did you know?"

"The winter jacket was what tipped me off," explained Hubert with just the slightest hint of smugness in his expression. "I was wondering what all the stolen items had in common, but it all made sense when I realized we're currently in the dead of winter. Take into account that we're not in the most... wealthy part of Garreg Mach, and well, you understand, I'm sure."

"Well yeah, I do now," nodded Alois. "Desperate homeless guy needed some essentials, figured he could also get away with sleeping here for the night. Honestly, he did think it through pretty well. The backwards walking completely threw us off. I'll have to keep that in mind for the future. Still though, the fact that you could come to that conclusion with the information we had is impressive to say the least."

"What can I say?" shrugged Hubert. "Far be it from me to be outsmarted by a criminal."

"Ah, that trademark confidence," laughed Alois. "You know, we really could use you in our department when you graduate. I know your heart lies with Adrestia, but do consider it. At least for me."

Hubert smiled drily. "...Maybe. In any case, I have class in an hour. I should take my leave."

And with that, he was gone. Alois just laughed and shook his head. This kid was gonna go places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw after I do finish the inktober prompts, this won't be done. i'll just write whatever i feel like, and i do have quite a few ideas...


	21. 21 - Treasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back with your bimonthly update lol

Leonie hopped off the bus, camera at the ready. The area around the old church was bustling with activity, and she could see several professional news crews wandering the area.

Another month, another assignment. This time, she’d been sent to report on a new archaeological discovery in Gaspard province. Apparently, the lost treasure of the region spoken of in legends had actually been found. Leonie was excited to investigate.

Her phone buzzed. Ashe. “You here? I’m waiting at the back entrance,” read the text.

Leonie snapped a quick picture of the church’s front facade and headed over.

“So what have you been up to?” Leonie asked as Ashe led her down some stairs to the basement. “Having a good break?”

“Yeah! It was pretty nice,” replied Ashe. “Had a good solstice with friends and family. I just wish it had lasted a little longer, though. We got caught up in this pretty soon after.”

“We?” echoed Leonie.

“Yeah, we,” confirmed Ashe. He looked a little sheepish. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, actually, since my dad didn’t want me to get swarmed by reporters, but I was the one who discovered the location of the treasure.”

Leonie’s eyes widened as she pulled a notepad out of her bag. “No way. Keep going, this sounds like a scoop!”

“Ah...” Ashe looked embarrassed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“C’mon,” Leonie prodded. “Do it for me. An exclusive story published in the Garreg Mach Tribune... that’d be amazing!”

Ashe relented. “Okay, okay fine. Just for you, Leonie. So you know how I’m really into medieval history, stories of knights and all that?”

“Mmhmm, keep going...” mumbled Leonie, scribbling notes.

“Yeah, so a few days after solstice I went with Christophe to explore the old Gaspard castle. It’s kind of a family tradition of sorts, cause y’know, my dad holds the property rights to the place, right? He’s like a distant descendant of them or something.”

“Alright...”

“So we were poking around, and I have to admit my dad hasn’t done a very good job of maintaining the place - don’t put that in the story, by the way. Anyhow, we were in the basement, in the dungeons actually, and then we stumbled upon this wooden chest.”

Leonie looked up, grinning. “Tell me this isn’t right out of a fairy tale.”

“I know, right?” said Ashe, nodding vigorously. “When we opened it, we found this really old scroll with a map marking the location of something. Dad called in a linguist from Fhirdiad to translate the old Faerghian script, and it turned out that the map pointed to the resting place of Thunderbrand.”

“Thunderbrand,” repeated Leonie. “I think I’ve heard that somewhere before.” 

“It’s the sword that the knight Charon supposedly wielded back in the War of Heroes,” explained Ashe. “You know, until this discovery, historians weren’t even sure if it actually existed.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Leonie snapped her fingers. “I remember reading an article on this. It’s one of those so-called ‘Heroes’ Relics’, right?”

“Yeah! That’s exactly it,” said Ashe excitedly. “Until now, only Areadbhar has been known to exist, having been passed down in Dimitri’s family for generations. There’s not enough textual sources from back then for people to be sure whether the other Relics were real or mostly a thing of legend.”

“Right, but the existence of Thunderbrand means that the other ones likely existed too.”

“Yup.” Ashe nodded. “Using the map, the archaeologists identified this church as the likely site, and two days ago they actually found it. Seems like there’s an entire shrine dedicated to it, even. Who knew?”

“That’s amazing,” agreed Leonie. “You know, I used to be really into archaeology too.”

“Really? Oh wait.. it probably has to do with Jeralt Eisner, doesn’t it.”

Leonie rubbed the back of her head. “...Yeah. When I was a kid, he was doing this dig near our town. It was a big one too, so he stuck around for like an entire year, and I guess he really rubbed off on me.”

“So, I guess the question is… why journalism now?” asked Ashe, pausing in front of a door marked with multiple “off-limits” signs.

“Well, I still love the history part, but then I found out it isn’t actually as glamorous as Jeralt made it look,” explained Leonie, shrugging. “There’s a lot of tedious lab work and science behind the scenes… not really my kinda thing. With journalism, I still get to discover new things in a sense, know what I’m saying?”

Ashe grinned. “Yeah. I can totally relate to that. You ready to go down to the dig then? My dad’s down there, and he said he’d be willing to give you a special interview.”

“Ashe, you are literally the greatest,” replied Leonie, grinning back. “Yeah, let’s go.”


	22. 22 - Ghost

“Ahhh,” sighed Maya contentedly as she stretched out on the living room couch after dinner. “I’m stuffed.”

Lysithea laughed, shaking her head. “No really. Crazy appetites run in the family, I see.”

“Oh, yeah,” Maya agreed, grinning. “Me and Raph used to have eating competitions all the time. I won a few too. Don’t let anyone tell you girls can’t eat.”

“Lysi.” Another of Maya’s friends piped up. “Has Maya ever told you about the Hot Dog Incident?”

“Do NOT tell her about that!” yelled Maya as the rest of her friends burst out laughing. “That’s private. Secret. Classified!”

“Alright, now you really have my attention,” Lysithea said, leaning forward. “Spill the tea.”

Maya groaned. “Why me? Talk about kicking a girl when she’s down.”

“I’ll tell you later,” said one of the girls, grinning. “Don’t wanna embarrass Maya too much on her sweet 16th.”

“I look forward to it,” giggled Lysithea. “So… what are we doing now? It’s still early.”

“Well…” started Maya, smiling mischievously. “So me and Raph were talking on the phone the other day, and he recommended me this movie… he said it’s an all-time horror classic. What do you all say?”

There were general sounds of agreement from around the room. Lysithea’s whimpered protest was not heard.

As it turned out, they were forced to stop not even halfway through the movie as the cops showed up, having been informed by the neighbors of loud, shrill screaming from the Kirstens’ house.

“You’re telling me that… it was all because of _Nightmare on Elm Street?_” asked one officer, face incredulous.

“I’m sorry, sir,” huffed Lysithea, face beet-red as the rest of the group burst out laughing. “I was coerced. Ghost movies and I don’t mix.”

The two officers at the door looked at each other, then back at the petite albino standing before them.

“Well then,” one finally said, looking slightly amused. “Might I suggest you girls find something else to do then? There _does_ exist a criminal charge for psychological torture.”

Everyone was still laughing as the police car pulled away. Everyone except Lysithea, that is. “You are all the worst,” she grumbled, pouting. “Just watch, I’m not getting any sleep tonight either.”

“Sorry, Lysi,” grinned Maya, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “Didn’t expect it to have _that_ much of an effect on you. Won’t do it again.”

“Hmph,” snorted Lysithea, although she couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t buy it. You’re not _really_ sorry, are you.”

“No no, I am. Only partially, though. Still gotta remind myself just how loud that scream is sometimes,” Maya replied, laughing. “C’mon, I’ll put on something else. What do you want?” 

“Anything’s fine,” Lysithea replied, rolling her eyes. “Just not another horror movie.”

“The Exorcist, then. Gotcha.”

“I hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this rate ill finish inktober 2019 in like 2025


	23. 23 - Ancient

“I _told_ you not to bring it up to Rhea,” groaned Seteth, hands tight on the steering wheel. “She’s the _Archbishop_ of the entire Church of Seiros. What did you think was going to happen?”

“I don’t know!” pouted Flayn, kicking the dashboard. “I figured she probably knew about all the ancient history and everything, so maybe she could explain a few of the things I’ve been wondering about.”

Seteth shook his head. “Firstly, bishops concern themselves with theology, not history, Flayn. I thought you knew that. Apostolic succession doesn’t mean that Rhea knows literally everything about the early Church. More importantly, the questions you asked implied that you were doubting core Catholic doctrines. Of course she would get upset.”

“Okay, okay… sorry, dad. If I’d known she would’ve gotten _that_ mad, I wouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s… alright.” Seteth sighed. “Perhaps I should’ve taught you more thoroughly when you were a kid. Your mother was always more devout than I was.”

“It just doesn’t make sense to me,” Flayn complained. “All that weird stuff about eating the actual blood and body of Seiros? And I never understood why we also worship Seiros’s dad. Wasn’t he just a regular guy? Heck, they even named the entire Kingdom after him!”

“Watch your language, Flayn,” scolded Seteth. “From what I remember, Catholic doctrine teaches that Faerghus was born free from original sin, and so he was able to serve as the perfect father to Seiros as she grew up. As for transubstantiation… that one is hard to explain. I’ll have to go dig up some books for that when we get home.” 

“It’s just… the problem I have with all this is that it _shouldn’t_ be this hard to understand core doctrines, right? The scriptures say the teachings of Seiros can be understood by all.”

“Well, you would think so…” Seteth muttered, pinching his nose as the car slowed to a stop at a red light. “Nevertheless, we’re called to have faith.”

“Yeah, but to have faith doesn’t mean you have to follow blindly,” insisted Flayn. “The Koine word for ‘faith’ just means to trust in something. How can I trust something if I don’t understand it?”

Seteth turned to look at his daughter, eyes narrowed. “...Alright, now I know you’re getting this from somewhere. Since when have you studied ancient Koine? Have you been talking to someone I don’t know about?”

“Ah,” stammered Flayn, realizing she’d said a little too much. “Um, well… no, no. I don’t remember how the conversation got to this point, but the other day I was talking with Byleth and he was telling me why he’s not a Catholic…”

“Oh, Byleth.” Seteth visibly relaxed, but his brow remained furrowed. “That’s… fine then, I suppose, but if he’s trying to convert you, then that is a little worrying.”

Now it was Flayn’s turn to stiffen. “You’re not going to tell him to stop visiting, are you? Isn’t he your friend?”

“Calm down, Flayn. I won’t do anything of the sort. Personally I don’t hold anything against Protestants, they believe most of the same things we do, and I think they’re saved as well. It’s just… well, I told you about the fallout between Rhea and Byleth’s father when he left the Church, right?”

“Ohhhh.” Realization dawned on Flayn’s face. “Yeah, that. Okay, that makes total sense.”

“Now, don’t tell anyone I said this,” warned Seteth, “but Rhea has some… strange ideas sometimes. She still has an eye on Byleth and his sister. For some reason, I think she wants them to become bishops just as Jeralt used to be.”

“Well, I think Beirut is an agnostic, so that doesn’t sound that likely,” said Flayn. “Byleth told me Jeralt raised them as ‘free thinkers’.”

“That sounds about right. I don’t think Rhea would be happy to hear that,” Seteth snorted. “By the way, while we’re on the subject… never mention the Western Reformation around her, for all of our sakes.”

“Alright, dad,” grinned Flayn, putting her hand over her heart. “I swear on the Ninety-Five Theses that I won’t.”

Seteth rolled his eyes. “Perhaps it is time for me to dust off some of those theology books after all…”


	24. 24 - Dizzy

“Alright, so what you gotta do is take the tip of the bat and put it on the ground, and then you put your forehead on it like this,” said Sylvain, bending down to demonstrate. “Keep your forehead on it and spin in a circle fifteen times, then run to that tree and back. And you better be running. If you walk I’m making you do it all over again.”

Felix let out a long groan. “That bet was a mistake. How deep is that snow, like half a metre? Where do you even get these ideas from?”

“The Internet is a wonderful place,” grinned Sylvain. “Now go on, I won fair and square last night. You gotta do it.”

“Why do you always have to make me do the most embarrassing things when… _she’s_ here?” Felix grumbled, gesturing to Annette, who was standing a short distance away and watching amusedly. “Where’s Dimitri anyway? I don’t want to muck up his front yard.”

“I think he said that there was a bunch of royal stuff they had to bring?” Sylvain shrugged. “I saw a bunch of suitcases in the foyer earlier. Guess we should go help out… after you do this, that is.”

Annette giggled. “Yeah, Felix. C’mon, you’re no fun. If you fall down too much I’m sure Sylvain won’t make you finish, right?”

“Well, that depends on how nicely you ask, m’lady,” said Sylvain, winking at Annette and pretending to tip an imaginary fedora. “I _might_ have mercy on your darling boyfriend.”

Felix flushed bright red. “Annette, you’re the worst. H-Hey! Dimitri! Do you two need any help?”

Dimitri and his butler had both emerged from the royal mansion, each dragging two suitcases behind them. On hearing his name, the prince looked up to see Felix waving desperately at him, and promptly burst out laughing. “We’re fine over here, Felix,” he called back. “You lost that bet fair and square. I’m not going to be the one to let you off easy.”

“You heard the man,” prodded Sylvain, holding out the bat. “C’mon.”

“Ugh. Alright, fine,” Felix scowled, yanking the bat from Sylvain’s hands. “But if I get Dimitri’s car seats all wet, it’s not my fault.”

“A worthy sacrifice,” Sylvain proclaimed.

Shaking his head, Felix bent down and started spinning. Annette watched with glee. “Faster!” yelled Sylvain.

Felix quickly lost count of how many circles he’d done, because spinning really fast with your forehead on a bat will do that to you, but after a while he flung it aside and tried to locate the tree Sylvain had pointed out. It was barely visible through his spinning field of vision. 

Sylvain was honestly amazed that Felix didn’t pitch over right away, but that just added to the hilarity. He managed three strides into the deep snowbank then screamed loudly as he lost his footing and fell facefirst into the powder.

“That is… some really deep snow,” Sylvain choked out through his laughter. “I... almost feel bad. Almost.”

Annette had dissolved into a giggling fit. “Perfect snow angel!” she squealed. “...Are you okay, Felix?”

Loud cursing indicated that Felix was indeed okay. Dimitri was also laughing as he watched from the car. Even the old butler was chuckling as he loaded up the luggage. 

“Hey, I can’t get up,” Felix complained from within the snow. “Too dizzy. Cold. Am I done yet? Please tell me I’m done.”

“Yeah, you’re good,” said Sylvain, still laughing as he stepped forward, reaching a hand into the Felix-shaped imprint in the snow. “Here, take my hand.”

Felix obliged, but he also added an extra rough yank, prompting a yelp from Sylvain as he was also pulled under.

Muffled shouting and thrashing erupted from inside the snow drift. Annette burst out laughing again as Dimitri walked up beside her, shaking his head. “Have you all always been like this?” she asked, smiling.

Dimitri grinned. “Oh, this is nothing. Can you imagine if Ingrid was here?”


	25. 25 - Tasty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot to mention but chapters 24 through to 29 will all be one arc.

The Festival of the Winter Star was held on a February weekend every year in Arianrhod, Faerghus. Typically the festival drew attendees from all over continental Fódlan, including both the Faerghian and Adrestian royal families. This, of course, meant that it was a perfect opportunity to catch up with friends - and for Sylvain, to hear the latest hot gossip.

He, Felix and Annette had arrived in Arianrhod with Dimitri via train late in the afternoon, and the festival was due to start the next day. Predictably, as night fell, Dimitri had tried to slip off to meet with his girlfriend, but Sylvain wasn’t going to just let him off the hook like that. Presently he was seated at a table at a chic downtown cafe, along with some of his friends from university. Dimitri knew they were there, but he was too nice to make them leave. Bless him.

“The Faerghian crown prince and the Adrestian princess,” crooned Sylvain, nodding at the booth across the cafe and grinning. “Aren’t they so cute? I’m never gonna get over it, I swear.”

Hubert smirked, clutching a steaming mug of his favorite light roast. “You can say that again,” he agreed. “I don’t believe I’ve mentioned this before, but in all the years that I’ve known Edelgard, she’s never taken to someone like she has with Dimitri.” 

“Oh, is that so?” asked Lorenz as he leaned forward, interest piqued. “Do tell.”

“Well, ever since the exchange program it’s only gotten worse,” said Hubert slowly, taking a sip from his mug. “I’m not at liberty to divulge too much, but maybe I’ll just say… she does have a pet name for him. Is that enough?”

Sylvain guffawed. “Now those are some relationship goals!”

Ingrid had come along too, more for the food than the gossip, but she stopped pigging out on beef stew just long enough to glance over to where Edelgard and Dimitri were sitting. Having a pretty good vantage point from her side of the booth, she observed a beaming Edelgard lean forward with her elbows on the table, watching Dimitri intently. All her attention was focused on him as he gestured in the air. 

Knowing him, he was probably telling some weird story about the royal family again. Ingrid had a hard time believing Edelgard could possibly enjoy one of those. She must _really_ like him.

“It might still be a long way off,” noted Lorenz, “but I’d imagine the wedding between them would certainly be something. If I recall correctly, the last royal marriage between houses Hresvelg and Blaiddyd was over three hundred years ago.”

“Sure you’re not getting too far ahead of yourself?” grinned Sylvain. “Although yeah, royal weddings… an event really doesn’t get much more luxurious than that.”

“Can you imagine the food?” added Raphael, who had been too busy scarfing down butter rolls the whole time to speak. He nudged Ingrid. “Hey, they’d finally have enough to feed us!”

Ingrid snickered and almost choked, her mouth full of stew once again. Lorenz rolled his eyes. 

“Speaking of which…” Sylvain leaned back in his seat. “Ingrid, you’re the only one at _this_ table who’s taken. When are you and Glenn finally gonna start dating? You two are way overdue.”

A blush spread across Ingrid’s face and she quickly swallowed her food. “Oh... I don’t know, honestly,” she replied. “We both agreed we don’t want to rush things, and since we’re both so busy these days, well…”

She shrugged. “Neither of us have ever been really big into romance anyway. Y’know, until last summer, I thought Dimitri was the same.”

“Love can change a man,” said Lorenz sagely. 

Raphael laughed. “Yeah, so when are you gonna get changed, Lorenz?”


	26. 26 - Dark

Saturday passed in a blur. It had been a whirlwind of sights and sensations, with performances, art shows and ice sculptures galore, and of course, a constant stream of delicious food. It was only after darkness had fallen and most revellers had retired to their hotels (or had gone clubbing) that Ingrid and Glenn led a small group onto the outdoor ice rink in Arianrhod’s Central Park for a night skate.

“Alright Annette, I gotta see how your stickhandling is,” Ingrid said immediately, tossing a puck at her. “C’mon, let’s go around the rink.”

“Oh, I haven’t played hockey in so long,” said Annette sheepishly, receiving the rubber disc with her old, worn wooden stick. “Don’t judge me.”

“Well, good thing we’re getting some practice in now, right?” grinned Ingrid. “Honestly, it’s fine. I’m already impressed at your skating.”

Annette shrugged. “I did play shinny with some family friends sometimes when I was younger. That was a long time ago, though.”

Ferdinand watched as the two girls moved off to skate a lap around the boards. Ingrid was right. Annette could skate just fine, and while her stickhandling was well below average, she could at least move the puck. He didn’t know if he could say the same for Edelgard. Or Hubert, for that matter. 

“I feel like agreeing to Adrestia vs. Faerghus was a very bad idea,” he said, turning to Dimitri. “Aside from the fact that Ingrid plays major junior, don’t they say that Faerghians learn how to skate before they learn how to walk? How true is that, exactly?”

Dimitri grinned. “Well, it’s not _that_ much of an understatement. But don’t worry, you have me to even the teams out a little bit, remember?”

“I mean, that’ll certainly help, but…” 

Ferdinand trailed off as he looked over at Edelgard, who was poking gingerly at another puck with the stick he had lent her. She looked a little wobbly in her brother’s old pair of hockey skates. 

“Did you end up skating with those like I told you to?” he asked, frowning. “Hockey and figure skates are very different.” 

“I didn’t have the time before we left Enbarr,” lamented Edelgard. “You’re right, these do feel strange. No toe picks, more rigid around the ankles.”

Having watched amusedly the whole time, Glenn finally piped up, chuckling. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Better get skating, princess.”

Edelgard scowled. “Look, I would have made this a higher priority if I’d known it would turn into such a spectacle. Remind me again on how exactly our... casual pickup hockey game became one of the festival’s scheduled events? With you as a referee and all.”

Dimitri laughed. “It’s funny, isn’t it? You would think if there was to be an exhibition game, it would be between professionals, but I guess Rodrigue pulled a lot of strings to make this happen.”

“I mean, it’s a game including the royal heir of Faerghus along with one of the Adrestian princesses,” pointed out Ferdinand. “This kind of thing is a gold mine for publicity.”

Glenn snorted. “Well, I did tell the old man that this stunt would end up in the news, but maybe that was the entire point.”

“Hold on a moment,” said Ferdinand, looking back and forth between the two royals. “I just realized something. You two haven’t made your relationship public yet, right? Playing side by side on the same hockey team… the press is going to have an absolute field day!”

Edelgard’s face turned white, and Dimitri groaned as the implications of Ferdinand’s words sank in. “I did not think of that,” he mumbled.

“Too late now!” Glenn burst out laughing. “It’ll be fun seeing the media speculate for the next two months.”

Ferdinand couldn’t help but laugh also. “Oh, man,” he grinned. “In that case, we might as well try to make you two look less silly out there. Come on El, I’ll show you the ropes.”

Glenn glanced over to the other side of the rink, where Ingrid was now showing off to Annette, doing that one lacrosse move where you score from behind the net. He shook his head. This was going to be an adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this is indeed all leading up to a very long hockey chapter, why do you ask?


	27. 27 - Coat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, this VERY long chapter is mostly about a hockey game. It does mention a coat once. If you're a hockey fan, you're welcome. If not, I'm not sorry. :)

The mid-morning sun shone overhead as Sylvain and Ferdinand stood opposite each other at centre ice, ready for the opening faceoff. “Man, this really brings me back,” laughed Sylvain. “It’s been too long.”

“Same here,” agreed Ferdinand. “When did you stop playing?”

“I quit after U16,” Sylvain replied. “Got a little too competitive for my liking.”

“Ah, alright,” nodded Ferdinand. “You still played longer than me then. I stopped after U14 because it was just taking up too much time. Sometimes I do wish I’d continued, though. It’s a fun sport.”

“Sorry, was talking with the old man,” said Glenn as he skated up to centre ice with the puck. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the bleachers, which were actually half filled with excited onlookers. “Not gonna lie, I’m surprised that there are this many people watching. We should probably start. Is everyone ready?”

Sylvain looked back at the rest of his team. They all looked eager to begin, even Annette on his right wing. “Yeah, we’re set,” he said with a grin. “Nice ref uniform, by the way. Haven’t seen you in it in person.”

Glenn rolled his eyes as Ferdinand glanced back at the Eagles, who also seemed ready, albeit looking slightly less sure of themselves. He shrugged. “I suppose so. Here’s hoping for the best.”

“Alright, couple things before we begin, then,” said Glenn briskly, switching into ref mode. “Everyone knows we’re doing three ten-minute periods, and not to go too crazy on the checking, right? Don’t want anyone stretchered off today.”

Both centers nodded in agreement. 

“Alright, well in that case…” Glenn lifted his whistle, holding out the puck. “I want a clean game. Play hard, play fast. Good luck!”

And with that, he dropped the puck with a tweet, and the game began. Cheers went up from the gathered crowd.

Sylvain was just a little quicker on the first draw, and Ingrid scooped up the loose puck and took off at full speed. Ferdinand tried to chase after her, but Seiros, she had a really quick first step and he couldn’t keep up. Already this wasn’t looking so good.

Ingrid blew right past Hubert, who was much too slow on his poke check attempt, but Dimitri was waiting just past the blueline, stick out and ready to intercept her approach. Cutting to the outside, she tried to bring the puck up the side of the rink, but Dimitri didn’t hesitate and checked her against the boards with a crunch. Ferdinand swung back to the Eagles zone to take back the loose puck as the crowd oohed in response to the hit.

“Ow,” groaned Ingrid, shaking it off. “You couldn’t go at least a little easy?”

Dimitri shook his head. “Ingrid, you play major junior. What do you think? Glenn told me last night I’d have to hit you a lot or you’d score like crazy.”

Ingrid sighed, laughing. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I think the crowd liked that hit, anyway.” Looking up, she noticed Dorothea staring their way, wide-eyed. “What, you’ve never seen hockey before, Thea? It’s a physical game. You should probably get used to it.”

“Hockey isn’t popular in southern Adrestia,” replied Dorothea, shaking her head. “I’d never even put on ice skates before two weeks ago.”

“You’re not bad then, honestly,” Ingrid grinned. “Haven’t seen you fall yet, at least.”

Meanwhile on the other end of the ice, Ferdinand was being double-teamed by Felix and Ashe, but still got off a decent pass to Edelgard in the slot. Unfortunately, she completely fanned on her swing, letting Annette skate by and steal the puck away.

“Come on El, where’s the finish?” Ferdinand groaned as Annette passed forward to Sylvain. His suspicions from the night before were starting to be confirmed. Edelgard could skate, but despite his efforts she still couldn’t use a hockey stick, and no offense to Hubert but he was completely dead weight. He was essentially the team’s only forward, and he would have to play both ways, since surely Dimitri wouldn’t be able to hold off the Lions offense by himself forever...

As if right on cue, Sylvain rushed into the Eagles zone past Dorothea, who fell over trying to skate backwards, and dropped a pass to Felix in the slot. Caspar just barely got his pads down in time to stop the ensuing slapshot, but Ingrid sped in, lifting the rebound above Caspar’s glove hand. 1-0 Lions. The Faerghians in the crowd cheered their approval.

Ferdinand shook his head. They really should have practiced more beforehand.

The rest of the period didn’t go much better. Dimitri did his best to continue checking Ingrid, but Sylvain and Felix were also both scoring threats and Dorothea was unable to do much besides get in the way sometimes. By the end of the first, the situation was looking pretty hopeless, as Ashe capped off the period with a seeing-eye wrister from the point to make it six to nothing. Loud yelling and banging on the glass erupted from Christophe and his friends, who were taking up front row seats in the bleachers.

On the Eagles’ side, both shots that Ferdinand got off had been saved handily by Dedue, who seemed to take up the entire net.

“Alright, this obviously isn’t working,” Ferdinand said bluntly at the Eagles bench during the intermission. “Dimitri can’t defend all the Lions by himself, but if I go defense we won’t ever score. I can’t play two-way the whole game either, I’m already tired as is. What do we do?”

“I _told_ you that limiting our team to our Garreg Mach group would be a bad idea,” Edelgard pointed out, shaking her head. “Hockey is so much more popular in Faerghus.”

Ferdinand pursed his lips. “I have to admit, I probably should’ve listened to you. You don’t suppose they would be fine with letting us have subs?”

Dimitri shrugged. “I can go ask. Who do you have in mind?”

“Well, if we can recruit other players....” Caspar piped up. “Do you guys know my aunt Fleche? She’s who I’ve been staying with, and she actually plays for Arianrhod’s FWHL team. She’s like, as good as Ingrid, if not better.”

Edelgard raised her eyebrows. “No really?”

“I think Leonie wanted to play as well,” Dorothea piped up. “She kept complaining on Discord that we wouldn’t let her, since she’s from Leicester...”

“All right! Maybe we do stand a chance then! Someone go get them,” said Caspar, getting excited.

“Why don’t you?” groaned Dimitri. “I’m already tired from having to defend Ingrid. You’ve just been standing still the whole period.”

“Yeah, standing still and making it so that the score isn’t _fifteen_ to zero,” argued Caspar. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere with these pads.”

In the end, it was Hubert, as always, who dutifully went to go seek out their new teammates.

Ingrid narrowed her eyes, staring at the grey-haired woman who was currently whipping shot after shot past Caspar at the Eagles net. “When we agreed to let them have other players, I didn’t think they meant _her._”

“Why?” replied Ashe, following Ingrid’s gaze. “Who is that?”

Ingrid shook her head. “Bergliez, I think. I forget her first name. I guess she must be related to Caspar? She’s the first line right winger on Arianrhod’s senior team. Probably one of the best Adrestian players in the FWHL right now.”

“Come again?” Sylvain blinked. “That’s not good, is it?”

“No, no it’s not,” Ingrid replied, biting her lip. “I think she played in the last Womens’ World Championship for Adrestia too. She has one of the best wrist shots in the league, so… good luck, Dedue.”

Dedue didn’t reply, but nodded, watching Fleche intently.

“Hey, isn’t that...” Felix pointed. “Leonie? Did we say they could have two subs?”

“Yeah. ‘Players’ is plural, Felix,” grinned Annette, elbowing her boyfriend. Felix scowled in response.

Ingrid glanced over at the Eagles bench. Leonie was chatting excitedly with Dorothea as she took off her coat and began taping a stick. “How good is Leonie? Does anyone know? I’ve never seen her play.”

“Probably better than Edelgard and Dorothea at least,” offered Sylvain. “Sauin actually gets winter unlike Enbarr, so I’m not surprised she knows how to skate.”

“She’ll probably just hit us a lot,” added Felix, rolling his eyes. “Have fun playing against her and the boar prince.”

Ingrid made a face. “Fun,” she groaned. “I’m already sore from Dimitri bodying me. Just... try to not have Fleche skate circles around you two.”

“C’mon Ingrid, I’m not that bad, am I?” grinned Ashe. “This should be closer now, though.”

Glenn blew the whistle for the second period to start, and both teams skated back out onto the ice. Ingrid noticed that Dorothea had been swapped onto forward, with Edelgard sitting out for now. She was watching intently from her spot on the bench, but beside her, Hubert didn’t look nearly as interested in playing any more.

The game immediately became much more fast-paced with Fleche involved. She wasn’t quite as strong a skater as Ingrid, but she was slippery and difficult to pin down. Her presence seemed to reinvigorate Ferdinand too, who began forechecking harder to clear room for her to work.

Ninety seconds into the period, he drove Felix into the boards, then got a stick on the puck which squirted free, sending it out front straight to Fleche. She didn’t disappoint, firing a laser of a shot that beat Dedue top shelf. From the bench, Edelgard could hear her brothers’ shouts from the bleachers. Maybe the game wasn’t over quite yet.

“C’mon, Ashe,” Ingrid huffed, only half teasing. “Where were you on that? She was wide open!”

“Sorry,” apologized Ashe, face a little flushed. “Dorothea had me tied up.”

“Wait, Dorothea!?” exclaimed Ingrid. “You’re kidding.” She turned her head to see the brunette skate by.

“Physical game, right Ingrid?” she winked. “Leonie said if I can’t hit the puck, I should hit the players instead!”

Ingrid groaned. Not that she hadn’t played physical hockey before... but she certainly hadn’t been expecting this much of it today.

Two minutes later, Dimitri scored the Eagles’ second goal on a slapshot off a pretty feed from Fleche. Ingrid noted with some dissatisfaction that the momentum of the game had definitely swung in the other direction. Sylvain was playing more defensively, wary of Fleche’s speed on the rush, and Dorothea wasn’t afraid to hit, meaning she was no longer a non-factor. To add on to that, Leonie was a massive upgrade on the Eagles blueline.

Another three minutes passed. Now that the game wasn’t so one-sided anymore, word was starting to get around the park and the crowd was continuing to grow. Fleche scored again on an odd-man rush with Ferdinand after some back and forth play, and the Adrestians in the bleachers erupted into loud cheers, Randolph loudest of all.

Down on the ice, Ingrid slapped her stick on the boards in frustration. “Seiros! Ashe, you have to stay on your man!”

“Sorry, Ingrid. I’ll try,” Ashe apologized, rubbing his nose. “I’m not used to hockey this fast.”

Sylvain laughed. “Chill out, Ingrid,” he said. “We’re still winning, and this game’s just for fun. Why so serious?”

“Shut up, Sylvain,” yelled Felix from the blueline. “If we lose, it’s an embarrassment.”

“Felix!” That was Annette. “Lighten up! Nobody cares who really wins. Besides, they have Dimitri and Leonie anyways. It’s not like this is the Olympics.”

Felix grumbled something unintelligible, and Ingrid had to laugh despite herself. “Right, right. Sorry. I get too competitive sometimes.”

“That’s more like it,” grinned Sylvain. “That said, though, I still do wanna win. We gotta come up with something.”

“Yeah,” agreed Ingrid. “Ever since the start of the second, Caspar’s been playing like the second coming of Patrick Roy.”

The Lions finally managed to snap the Eagles’ scoring streak off a beautiful stretch pass from Felix, which sent Ingrid in alone on a breakaway. After some fancy stick work, she tucked the puck in five-hole. Adrestia responded quickly soon after though, as Dedue lost track of the puck during a scramble in the Lions’ crease and Leonie managed to jam it home. The second period ended with the score still 7-4 in the Lions’ favor, but Seiros, it was looking much closer now.

At the intermission, Ingrid was lecturing Felix and Ashe on defensive positioning at the Lions bench. Sylvain noted with some amusement that for once, Felix was actually listening to her.

“Hey guys, look,” said Annette suddenly, pointing up at the bleachers, which had filled up considerably at this point. “Up there. Isn’t that… King Regent Rufus? And wait, isn’t that…?”

Dedue looked up. Dimitri’s uncle was indeed making his way into the top row of the stands with his aides, waving at those in the crowd. Trailing behind them was the emperor of Adrestia, his consort, and their entourage. 

“That would be Ionius IX and Anselma Arundel, yes,” nodded Dedue. 

Sylvain laughed. “Wow. Well, now it’s a party, isn’t it?”

As the teams lined up to start the third period, Ingrid turned to Fleche. “Think you’ll get an invite to the Imperial Palace if you guys win this one?” she teased, nodding up at the Adrestian royals in the bleachers.

Fleche grinned. “Meh. I’m not really one for that sort of thing, but I’d probably just go to make my brother jealous. Hey, you’re a heck of a player, by the way. Looking forward to playing against you in the FWHL.”

“Same here," replied Ingrid, smiling back. “It's going to be something, that's for sure. I’ll see you at the Olympics too, right?”

“Well... if Adrestia even qualifies, I suppose,” replied Fleche, raising her eyebrows. “We really bombed out at 2019 Worlds, so…”

The conversation was interrupted by Glenn’s whistle as he dropped the puck to begin play. 

“Talk more later!” yelled Ingrid as both girls scrambled to get into position.

The third period started off well for the Lions. On the Eagles’ first possession, good positional defense by Ashe led to an easy stop by Dedue on a sharp-angle shot by Ferdinand. A great drive by Sylvain to the net right after led to Ingrid cashing in on a juicy rebound, roofing it over Caspar’s blocker. 

For a few minutes after, the Lions continued to control play, but were unable to score again as Caspar made several key saves and Leonie pounded Ingrid into the boards repeatedly. Eventually, Felix bobbled the puck at the blueline, leading to a break for Fleche. She made no mistake, beating Dedue with a rocket from the top of the slot to complete her hat trick. Several Adrestian toques flew down onto the ice, requiring a disgruntled Glenn to collect them before play could resume.

That goal would have been bad enough, but the Lions now had to deal with another problem as well. It was quickly becoming evident that twenty-five minutes of hard play with minimal breaks was taking its toll. Annette and Ashe were visibly tired, and even Ingrid was playing with considerably less intensity. Fleche’s third tally just served to deflate them further, and the momentum shifted in the Eagles’ direction once again. 

While the fatigue of some of the Adrestians was also showing, Fleche was still fresh, having come on in the second period. She didn’t hesitate to take advantage of this fact, and soon scored once again on a beautiful rush, dangling her way past Felix and beating Dedue top corner. Cheering erupted again from the Adrestians in the crowd, which had been getting more and more into the game.

So far, cheers had been split between “Go Faerghus Go” and “Let’s Go Adrestia”, but with the clock dwindling, Edelgard’s brothers now attempted to begin a chant of “Put Edelgard In”. Edelgard shut that down quickly, however. “Get them to put me in if you want to lose!” she screamed back, prompting laughter from the onlookers.

Three minutes left on the clock. A tired Felix finally let his temper get the better of him as he viciously crosschecked Ferdinand in front of the Lions net, leading Glenn to call the game’s first penalty. With him in the box, the Eagles wasted no time in bringing it within one as Ferdinand tipped home a Dimitri slapshot from the point.

As even-strength play resumed, renewed roars of “Put Edelgard In” sounded out from the stands. Ingrid was momentarily confused, but quickly realized the crowd wanted Caspar pulled. Now would certainly be as good an opportunity as any...

As time wound down to a minute remaining, the Eagles swarmed the Lions net looking for the equalizer. A wild shot by Leonie deflected off Ashe’s stick and out of play. The faceoff would be in the Lions’ zone. Ingrid glanced at the clock. It read 49 seconds.

She turned her head to see Dimitri talking with Ferdinand and Fleche, gesturing at the bench and grinning. Ferdinand nodded, himself smiling, and Fleche skated back to the Eagles’ zone, presumably to tell Caspar to get off the ice...

“Alright, don’t tell me you guys are actually gonna pull Caspar,” she said, skating up to the Eagles.

“The people want it,” Dimitri replied, shrugging with a smile on his face. To drive his point home, the crowd let out an even louder roar as Caspar began heading to the bench and Edelgard skated onto the ice.

Ingrid exhaled slowly, turning to Glenn. “Am I allowed to call a timeout?”

Glenn nodded, clearly amused.

Despite Leonie and Dorothea chirping them for being “tryhards”, the Lions stood huddled together at their bench.

“Alright, make sure you play it tight, but try to intercept the puck if you can,” Ingrid was saying, face dead serious. “If we get it, get it to me, Sylvain, or Felix. If we can get an empty netter that should be the game.”

Sylvain grinned. “Well, I can’t promise I’ll hit the net. Never been real good under pressure.”

“You better!” Ingrid snapped. Ashe laughed nervously.

“Chill out, Ingrid,” said Sylvain, holding up his hands in protest. “I’ll try my best, okay? Look, I know it’s close, but it’s still just a game, remember? No need to flip out on me.”

Ingrid bit her lip, glaring at the Eagles across the rink. “Ugh. Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry. It’s just… this is how we lost to Sreng in the finals last fall, remember?”

Annette thought back to Ingrid’s preseason tournament the past October, remembering how Sreng had tied the game in the waning seconds of regulation and then won in overtime. “I remember that,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’ll try my best to defend. We’ll win! We just have to stop them from scoring!”

Laughing, Ingrid shook her head. “That’s harder than it sounds, Annette,” she replied. “You’re right, though. I appreciate the enthusiasm. C’mon, let’s get back out there and win this one.”

The teams lined up for the faceoff. Six Eagles, five Lions. Ingrid tried to calm her nerves, glancing furtively at Fleche. The excited crowd roared in her ears.

Sylvain won the draw, a good start, but Ashe was immediately checked by Ferdinand as he tried to dig the puck out of the corner. Felix joined in, scrambling for the loose rubber as Dorothea tried to tie him up.

Eventually the puck squirted free, but to the wrong team as Fleche scooped it up and ripped a shot on net. Dedue came up big though, coming across with a huge blocker save. The puck ricocheted out to Edelgard in the slot.

This was her chance! She tried her best to control the bouncing disc, but alas, it was stolen away quickly by Sylvain. So much for the man advantage being useful. He passed it out to Ingrid, who had begun streaking down the wing towards the Eagles net. Surely this would be the game?

That same thought was in Ingrid’s head as she exited the Lions’ zone at full speed, but she didn’t anticipate Leonie levelling her with an open-ice hit, sending both of them sprawling to the ground. Disappointed, she struggled to her feet, fully expecting Dimitri to have come back to grab the loose puck.

Instead she watched as Annette, having been in the perfect position, managed to barely reach the puck before Dimitri. She took a wild swing at it right before being pulled down by the crown prince.

Ingrid could have sworn she had never heard a louder crowd in her life as Annette’s desperate shot sailed down the length of the rink, between the posts and into the net.

The Faerghian spectators in the stands exploded into cheers. Rodrigue had lost any semblance of professionalism as he hugged Lonato, shouting at the top of his lungs. Christophe and his friends were dancing around like monkeys. Even Rufus jumped up, arms raised triumphantly as Ionius IX looked on, amused.

Down on the rink, Dimitri crawled off Annette, defeated, as Ingrid and Sylvain swarmed her at centre ice in celebration. As Felix made to follow suit, he skated past Edelgard on the way out of the Lions’ zone, and she promptly took out her frustration on him by slashing him in the shins.

Yelping in pain, Felix shoved her onto the ice in retaliation, but unfortunately he did so right at the exact moment when Dimitri looked up.

“Leave it to your boyfriend to ruin your moment, hey?” Ingrid asked Annette as they watched Felix and Dimitri slug it out. Edelgard stood nearby, rolling her eyes but smiling. At least the Faerghians in the crowd had not stopped cheering when the two had dropped the gloves. If anything, they had started cheering louder.

Annette sighed, a grin on her face. “Well, it certainly comes with the territory.”


	28. 28 - Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and... double dip

“I still can’t believe you missed the game, Lin,” Caspar groaned. “I even woke you up before we left!”

“I fell asleep again. Sue me,” said Linhardt flatly, leaning back in his seat. “Randolph has a very comfortable couch.”

The sleigh shifted slightly as the horses pulling it trotted over a bump in the road. Up in the front seat, Ingrid and Fleche were still chatting excitedly about all things hockey. They hadn’t stopped since the game had finished earlier in the day. Randolph was behind Caspar and Linhardt in the back seat.

“Are you always like this, Linhardt?” Randolph asked, leaning forward. “I agree my couch is real nice for sleeping, but you barely left the house the whole festival, and now it’s the final night. What was even the point in coming?”

Caspar snorted. “Lin’s weird. If I yell at him enough, he’ll come to anything, but then he just sits around most of the time.”

“In my defense, I didn’t have to travel as far as you did, Caspar,” said Linhardt, yawning. “Arianrhod’s just a short trip across the border.”

“Stop being so lame,” complained Caspar, rolling his eyes. 

Randolph just laughed. “Well, at least he’s here for the sleigh ride. If you ask me, this is always the best part of the whole festival.”

Ingrid turned in her seat, holding up her phone. “I got a text from Sylvain,” she groaned. “He’s at the hospital with Felix. Turns out he really did break one of his fingers.”

Everyone burst out laughing. “What’s his fight record against Dimitri?” asked Fleche. “Probably not very good, is it?”

“Well, Dimitri has the height, weight, and reach advantage,” replied Ingrid, amused. “It’s pretty skewed in Dimitri’s favor. Felix has the spirit, though.”

“While we’re on the subject,” said Randolph, “did you guys see how fast Dimitri rushed at Felix after he pushed Edelgard over? That’s definitely gonna be all over the gossip magazines.”

Fleche snickered. “Oh, yeah. Big time. Hey, speaking of which…”

She pointed across the road, where another sleigh was making its return trip along the same route. Lo and behold, Edelgard and Dimitri were locked in a tender embrace in the back seat, picturesque within the gently falling snow and the warm glow of the streetlamps.

“How much do you think we could sell the media a picture of _that?_”


	29. 29 - Injured

“And _then,_ she insisted she wanted her payment in cash, like right that instant! Can you believe the nerve?”

Ingrid and Annette burst out laughing as Dimitri crossed his arms and huffed. “Blackmail, I tell you.”

The train continued to bump along the tracks as the Tailtean plains sped by outside of the window. With the festival having concluded the night prior, the three were now headed back to Fhirdiad with Felix in tow. Sylvain had left for Garreg Mach on another train earlier that morning.

“Didn’t think Caspar’s family would be the type to do that kind of thing,” said Felix, smirking. 

Dimitri shook his head and groaned. “Well, to be fair, I think it might just be Fleche. Randolph seemed rather reluctant to go along with it.”

“Oh, speaking of which,” Annette chimed in. “I was texting Mercie last night, and turns out she actually knew Randolph when she was a kid, back before she moved to Fhirdiad. Small world, huh?”

“I’ll say,” agreed Ingrid. “Funny how that works. Hey Felix, how’s your hand holding up?”

Felix frowned, poking at the thick bandage with his other hand. “It feels fine, but they told me it needs to stay in the cast for three weeks. At least it’s my left hand.” He glared at Dimitri. “We’re going again once it heals.”

“You really have no sense of self-preservation, do you?” Dimitri teased back, grinning. “But hey, it’s up to you.”

Annette giggled. “Come on, Felix. I don’t want my future husband to always be getting into fights.”

Felix blushed, everyone laughed again, and the train carriage lapsed into a comfortable silence. Everyone was still somewhat drained from the constant festivities of the past weekend.

Eventually, Ingrid looked up from her phone, frowning. 

“Hey… did you guys hear on the news? Apparently there’s been some new supervirus going around in Sacae the past few weeks.”

Felix scoffed, leaning over to look. “Sounds like a problem for them to deal with. There’s no way it’ll come over here, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so ends the arc, 7 months late. now time to timeskip to quarantine omegalul


	30. 30 - Catch

Belize coughed violently once again from across the table. It sounded like grating sandpaper mixed with a shotgun blast. Byleth cringed.

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay?” he asked worriedly, looking over at his sister.

Belize frowned, rubbing her neck, and picked up her phone to text back her reply. Due to throat pain, she hadn’t been able to speak a word for the past couple days.

_”manuela put it this way,”_ came the reply. _”she said if im still breathing rn, ill be fine. u do know the virus affects a lot of people worse, right?”_

“I mean, I guess so,” replied Byleth. “It’s just… look at you. You look like you haven’t slept a wink in the past week.”

_”i literally didnt sleep all of last night u idiot.”_

“Right, right,” sighed Byleth, shaking his head. “What am I thinking? I even heard you coughing all evening.” Belize glared at him, but Byleth felt more pity than fear at the sight.

“You want more chicken noodle soup? It’s almost lunchtime,” he said, getting up from his chair. He headed over to the stove, where they had several cans stockpiled. Mercedes had dropped them off the other day. “You know, I can’t believe they’re still making you teach your class. I don’t even have it as bad, and they let Dad cover for me.”

As he grabbed a pot and turned on the stove, his phone lit up with the reply. _”they arent making me. i offered to do it.”_

Byleth snorted, which promptly caused a coughing fit of his own. Obviously he hadn’t recovered fully yet. 

“I should have figured,” he said once he had caught his breath again. “You really did get all of Dad’s stubborn streak, you know that?”

Belize didn’t bother to deny the fact, but just continued to tap away tiredly at her computer. Smiling wanly, Byleth turned his attention to preparing the soup.

When it was done, he brought two steaming bowls to the table, where Belize was rubbing her eyes. She looked up at him and pointed at the screen, where she had typed something out.

_“do you mind helping me with the TTS program ive been using to do my lectures? every time it mispronounces something my students lose it in the zoom chat.”_

“Wait, you’ve been using a text-to-speech?” exclaimed Byleth, grinning. “That makes sense, but... that’s hilarious, I’m sorry. I’d be laughing too.”

_”laugh then,”_ Belize typed as she made a face. She proceeded to then swivel in her chair, turning around and reaching at her brother.

“Hey, wait no -“ Byleth tried to dance out of the way, but even when she was sick, Belize was pretty quick on her feet. She quickly tickled him into submission, leaving him giggling on the floor and coughing up a storm. Good thing he’d put down the soup.

_“Serves you right,”_ she mouthed, giving him a kick for good measure before turning back to her work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FeelsBadMan


	31. 31 - Ripe

“Hey, we’re back!” shouted Ignatz as he closed the door to the dorm. “Sorry we took so long. Raphael took literally forever.”

“This watermelon has to last us the next two weeks!” Raphael protested as he carried his prize to the kitchen counter. “I had to pick a good one. It’s nice and ripe, see?”

Sylvain looked over from his seat on the couch in the common area, grinning. “That’s implying it’s even gonna last two weeks. Sure you’re not just gonna finish it all today?”

“Well… no promises, I guess,” replied Raphael sheepishly. He set the watermelon down. “Hilda, you guys have a big knife I can use?”

“It’s under the sink somewhere!” Hilda called out, eyes focused intently on the TV screen. “Sorry, I’m trying not to get clowned on by Claude again.”

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job,” Claude smirked as his Hero connected with a back air, sending Hilda’s Peach offscreen for the KO. “Seriously, we’ve been playing for a month. I figured you would’ve gotten better by now.”

“I totally have!” Hilda insisted. “I take games sometimes! Right, Marianne?”

“Yes, I think so...” Marianne said softly from her spot on the beanbag in the corner. “Hubert said you improved too, the last time he came over to play. Didn’t he?”

Hilda elbowed Claude. “See? You can’t deny it. Marianne is always right.”

“Fine, yeah, yeah,” sighed Claude dramatically, rolling his eyes. ‘You’ve improved. You always gotta pull the Mari card on me, don’t you?”

“Well, there’s no counterplay so far,” quipped Ignatz as he flopped down onto the beanbag beside his girlfriend. Marianne smiled shyly. 

Sylvain laughed. “Man, y’know, I’m so glad we have this cohort system in place. Do you know how crazy I’d be going right now if I couldn’t see anybody? The masks are so lame too. Hate having to wear one every time I go out.”

“Hey, same!” yelled Raphael from the kitchen, where he had been noisily chopping up the melon. “The regular masks aren’t big enough for my face!”

Hilda burst out laughing at that, which Claude took advantage of, finishing off her final stock. “Seriously, Raph?” she grinned as she gave Claude a shove. “Want me to stitch you one?”

“No way,” Sylvain gasped. “Hilda offering to do something for someone? We really are in desperate times.”

“Oh, can it,” said Hilda, tossing her Joycons at him. “If you give me some of that watermelon, Raph, then we can go into the back room and you can pick from the cloth I’ve got.”

“Sounds good!” called Raphael. “I’m almost done back here, hold on.”

“You want these back or not, Hilda?” Sylvain said as he swung the Joycons about like a pendulum, smirking. “Otherwise I guess I’ll play.”

“Eh, you go ahead,” said Hilda. “I think I’m done for tonight. Hey, speaking of which, does that physics prof of yours still have that text-to-speech thing going on? That video you sent yesterday actually had me in tears.”

Sylvain laughed. “Oh, man. It was even worse today. I’ll send you some clips later...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there we have it. inktober 2019 finished one day before inktober 2020 starts lol.
> 
> probably not gonna follow any more prompts from here on out, but there will be more content for sure. stay tuned both to this fic and the discord one. after all, everyone's in quarantine, so the discord server oughta be way more active right now...


End file.
